Halo: The Human Effect
by MJOLNIR117
Summary: Following the Human-Covenant War, Humanity finds a buried device that allows trans-galactic travel far faster than Slipspace. It was heralded as the greatest scientific find in Human history; the rest of the galaxy simply calls it the Mass Effect. Now mankind needs to forge a new place for itself among the stars.
1. Prologue

UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND PRIORITY TRANSMISSION

ENCRYPTION CODE: OMEGA

FROM: CODENAME GHOST

TO: CODENAME OVERSEER

DATE: 10/25/2595

SUBJECT: ARTIFACT SEVEN-BRAVO

CLASSIFICATION: RESTRICTED (XXX-XD DIRECTIVE)

/START FILE/

Sir,

As per your orders, I have had the crew of the -WITHHELD- secure as much of the area as is possible, though with the resources available to me this task is proving rather troublesome. I am sure that our objective can be accomplished, given enough time. The time table handed down from HIGHCOM, however, is unrealistic. We don't even know what it is, and the higher ups want to bring it online next WEEK? For all we know this could be a doomsday device, something on the scale of the Halo Array. I beg of you, sir, get us more time.

In the meantime, here is an update on Artifact Seven-Bravo. We have determined that it might, and I stress the word _might_, be a means of trans-galactic transportation. The only problem is that it requires a key. Without this key, we dare not bring it online. We have confirmed the high concentration of dark matter in the center of the super-structure, but we have not been able to access it.

That is all for now. I will update you as soon as any new developments arise.

/END/

* * *

UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND PRIORITY TRANSMISSION

ENCRYPTION CODE: OMEGA

FROM: CODENAME GHOST

TO: CODENAME OVERSEER

DATE: 10/30/2595

SUBJECT: ARTIFACT SEVEN-BRAVO

CLASSIFICATION: RESTRICTED (XXX-XD DIRECTIVE)

/START FILE/

Sir,

Artifact Seven-Bravo is now fully uncovered. We have yet to access the center of the artifact, but the overall shape of the artifact is that of a tuning fork. The design is extremely different from normal Forerunner architecture. It is much more organic looking, without the sharp edges we have come to expect from the Forerunners. More disturbing is the dating information. Or more accurately, the lack thereof. We can NOT date Artifact Seven-Bravo using any means at our disposal, including simple carbon dating. I have come to believe that this is the remnant of another alien civilization.

This fact makes me even more hesitant to activate it. HIGHCOM has given me two more days, but I don't think that we can bring it online in that time span. I will keep you informed.

/END/

* * *

UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND PRIORITY TRANSMISSION

ENCRYPTION CODE: OMEGA

FROM: CODENAME GHOST

TO: CODENAME OVERSEER

DATE: 11/03/2595

SUBJECT: ARTIFACT SEVEN-BRAVO

CLASSIFICATION: RESTRICTED (XXX-XD DIRECTIVE)

/START FILE/

Sir,

The artifact is now online and awaiting input. We are one day overdue, which is soured even more by the fact that I lost two men when we activated the device. I hope HIGHCOM is satisfied...

We will be ready to send ALPHA through within the week. Godspeed is the only thing we can give them. We don't even know where the device leads.

Anyway, I hereby report mission success. Artifact Seven-Bravo is activated. We will provide security until Taskforce Lima arrives.

/END/

* * *

UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND PRIORITY TRANSMISSION

ENCRYPTION CODE: OMEGA

FROM: CODENAME GHOST

TO: CODENAME OVERSEER

DATE: 11/11/2595

SUBJECT: ARTIFACT SEVEN-BRAVO

CLASSIFICATION: RESTRICTED (XXX-XD DIRECTIVE)

/START FILE/

Sir,

Artifact Seven-Bravo was successfully activated and an exploratory team sent through. They came back from a transgalactic journey approximately fifteen hours in length. While their exact destination remains classified even to me, word has already gotten around that the artifact does indeed allow near instantaneous travel over thousands of light-years. This is one of the most revolutionary discoveries we have made since the Shaw-Fujikawa translight engines, without a doubt. I will update you as more information becomes available to me. The Admiral is being particularly quiet about this.

/END/

* * *

**Hey guys. If you've made it this far, I assume you're interested. As you've probably figured out by now, this is a crossover between Halo and Mass Effect. It's slightly AU for both series, but it'll still be good, I promise. And don't worry, the action will start to pick up soon.**

**Thanks go to erttheking for beta-ing for me.  
**

** Feel free to leave a comment or review.**


	2. 1: First Contact

**0918 hours, November 29, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/Aboard UNSV Frigate **_**Johnston**_**, Captain's Quarters, Mass Relay Hotel November One-Niner**

For the twentieth time in as many minutes, Captain John Locke sighed. Unlike the first nineteen, however, he couldn't keep this one in. Doctor Frederic Jong stopped midsentence. He had been complaining about how long it was taking to active this particular relay.

Fifteen years ago, humanity had stumbled upon the Mass Relays, technological marvels that used dark matter to transport vessels across galactic distances nearly instantaneously. This technology had opened up incredible possibilities for humanity, which was still recovering from the Human-Covenant War. In those mere fifteen years, humanity had settled twenty new worlds. The Sangheili had been largely indifferent to humanity's discovery. After the war, the two species had gone their separate ways, mostly to give time for the emotions left over from the war to subside.

"Am I boring you Captain?" he asked.

"Boring? No. Irritating? Yes," Locke replied, somewhat snappishly. "You're trying to rush something that shouldn't be rushed. We have protocols in place for a reason." The doctor cut him off before he could say anything else.

"As I've been informed countless times by your crew. Yet, none of them can ever seem to tell me what those reasons are. _Are_ there even any actual reasons? Or is this just some pencil-pusher's power trip? I have deadlines to meet, Captain. There are a dozen rather large corporations looking to bid on any potential colonies and their shareholders won't wait forever."

A new message appeared from the _Johnston_'s sysops officer in front of the Captain. In the background, Doctor Jong was still speaking, unaware that Locke's attention was elsewhere. Locke muted the Doctor, content to let him speak rather than interrupt to ask for a moment of silence. The message was a rather sparse report from the ship's gravimetric sensor suite: _0917 Hours._ _Anomalous gravitational fluctuation detected. 19 million km. Bearing 055 plus/minus 5. Inclination 30 plus/minus 4. 0918 Hours. Fluctuation detected again. 17 million km. Bearing 053 plus/minus 5. Inclination 25 plus/minus 5. Possible trajectories plotted. 0919 Hours. 3__rd__ ping of fluctuation. 15 million km. Bearing 051 plus/minus 2. Inclination 20 plus/minus 1. Constant velocity determined. Superluminal anomaly confirmed. 85 percent probability object will enter threat envelope._ The rest of the message included the hard numerical data. Locke skipped over that part. He got the gist from the condensed version.

He unmuted the Doctor's video feed and immediately cut him off. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I just received an urgent message from the bridge. I'll have to attend to the matter personally. We can continue this discussion later." He was about to kill the feed when he added, "And you are NOT authorized to activate the relay. Understood?" He waited until he got a reluctant nod from the Doctor before closing the feed and making his way to the bridge.

The short walk gave him time to briefly mull things over. By the sensor suite's reckoning, the mass was travelling at a remarkably constant velocity, along a remarkably straight path. While it wasn't unheard of for meteors or other small bodies to miraculously force their way past the light speed barrier, their velocities and trajectories were typically highly varied. As he keyed his entrance code to the bridge, he suddenly realized he had developed a tense knot in his gut.

"Captain on deck," the officer on watch said.

"As you were," Locke said, returning the salute offered by the officer. As he sat in his command chair, a flood of information rushed into his mind and his neural lace interfaced directly with the ship. No sooner had he pulled up the TACMAP than the call came in that he had been dreading.

"New contact! Ten vessels just jumped in-system. Bearing 085, inclination 10. Distance, 9 million kay-em. Unknown classification, no IFF," the navigation officer said.

"Disposition?" Locke asked.

"Unknown, sir," Nav replied, "but they don't match any known Human or Covenant hull, pre- or post-war."

"Alright, send a message to the taskforce and prepare a contact report for HIGHCOM. Have the _Pearl_ form up on us and have the science vessels move 15k behind us. Then, send our visitors this message, broad-spectrum sweep: I am Captain John Locke of the United Nations Space Command. You are infringing on sovereign territory. Please state intentions immediately."

"Messages sent, Captain. The _Pearl_ is responding and the science ships are starting to maneuver," the COMM. officer said.

"Attila, situational appraisal?" Locke asked.

"I don't know who or what our visitors are, but I am nearly certain that this is a first contact situation. Congratulations Captain," the AI of the _Johnston_ said as he appeared on the projector next to the Captain's Chair.

"Save the champagne for later, right now we have other issues," the Captain said. "What would their combat analogues be, if they are warships?"

"Based on size, estimated construction materials, and probable weapon hard-points, the two largest vessels are either heavy destroyers or light cruisers. The rest are frigates," the AI responded.

Locke nodded and referenced the TACMAP again. The _Pearl_ would be on station in a minute and the science craft were…

"Would someone mind telling me why the good Doctor Jong's ship is still attached to the Relay?" Locke asked.

"All science vessels confirmed their orders, except the Doctor's ship, Captain," the communications officer said. "There could potentially be some interference from the Relay itself."

"I doubt it, Lieutenant," Locke said. "Hail that ship immediately and get them to pull back."

"Yes, sir," Comms replied, but before he could send out the message, he stopped and starred at his screen for a second. "Sir! We're receiving a broad-spectrum reply from the unknowns. Message is decoded, but it doesn't make sense."

Locke pulled the message up in front of him. He couldn't make head or tails of it either. "Attila?"

"It's a different language, or at least a dialect so unique it might as well be its own language. Without a reference point, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to translate it with any accuracy."

"So they could either be telling us that they're our new best friends or that we're desecrating their gods, and we have no idea which one it is."

"Those would be the extremes, yes," the AI responded. "Though a middle course would be more likely."

"This has happened once before, Attila. That was a pretty extreme course the Covenant took. I want to play it safe here," Locke said softly so the rest of the bridge crew wouldn't hear it.

"Understood, Captain. The _Pearl_ is in position and Dr. Jong's vessel is still not responding to hails, though I have detected an increase in reactor output from his vessel. It appears he means to jumpstart the Relay despite your orders."

"Great. I don't need him going AWOL right now." Locke was interrupted by Comms before he could go on.

"Captain, I'm picking up increased traffic between the unknown vessels."

Attila broke in. "Sir, if they don't know what the Relays are, they could assume it is a weapon of some sort. I recommend…" he trailed off for a split second. "The Relay just went online."

A second later, sysops called out, "Massive energy spike from the unknowns. Mass effect cores confirmed. Heavy EM increase as well. We're getting pinged by dozens of different sensors."

"Captain, we're getting targeted," Weapons added, his voice rising in pitch.

Before Locke could issue another order, one of the bridge officers interrupted. "Electro-magnetic energy spikes detected, kinetic weapons fired. I say again, kinetic weapons fired," sysops called. On the TACMAP, Dr. Jong's ship disappeared in a ball of fire and fragments.

"Battlestations! All hands to battlestations!" Captain Locke ordered. Instantly, the lights on the bridge dimmed to red. A moment later the _Johnston_ shook as she was hit. The blips representing the ten vessels went from being white and labeled Unknowns 1-10 to red with the labels Hostiles 1-10.

"Three hits on the fore starboard side. Shields down to 25 percent," an officer cried.

"_Pearl_ reports five hits, shields down, and breaches to decks 5, 6, and 7," Comms called out.

"Bring us about, new bearing zero seven zero, inclination zero five degrees, engines full. Load two squash rounds and prepare to fire," Locke barked out.

The _Johnston_ spun to face her attackers and accelerated, the _Pearl _behind her and to starboard. Atmosphere could be seen spewing from some of the lower decks and she was noticeably slower to accelerate. Despite the damage, the two frigates lined up with their targets within seconds and opened fire. Two MAC slugs were fired, each aimed at separate targets. As they hit their targets, a blue-silver field appeared.

"Well, now we know that they have shields," Attila said.

"Which is not good for us," Locke said. He glanced at the TACMAP. He was glad to see the remaining science vessels had scattered and were all on outbound courses at best speed. This fight was going to be tough enough without having to babysit civilian vessels.

"Initiate Cole Protocol. Wipe everything. I don't want any data left over for them to salvage," Locke said. "Helm and Nav, spin up our S-F drive. Drop us fifty thousand klicks to the port of the rightmost hostile. Comms, have the _Pearl _hold position and launch a missile volley."

"Aye aye, Captain," the three officers chorused. Helm added, "Jump in fifteen seconds."

A rip appeared in the fabric of space before the _Johnston_. The ten thousand metric ton frigate surged into the opening…

And reappeared microseconds later, fifty thousand kilometers to the left of the hostile flotilla.

"Emergency stop! New bearing one eight five hard to port, half full. Fire silos one through five, target Hostiles Two through Five," Locke ordered. The _Johnston's_ superstructure groaned as she went from superluminal to several hundred kilometers per second to full stop in the space of a few seconds. She then started to turn hard to the left to try and swing in behind her attackers. The inertial dampeners onboard whined in protest as they tried to maintain survivable Gs on the frigate's decks. As she was straining to make the turn without being torn in half, the five missile silos on the port side slid open and divulged their contents. Twenty-five Falcon missiles streaked towards the aliens, who were slowly turning about to face the _Johnston_. The missiles tore across the short distance that separated the combatants and slammed into their targets.

The M88 Medium-range Fusion-tipped Anti-shipping Stand-off missile, designated the Falcon, was designed to replace the venerable Archer missile. Boasting a significantly larger warhead and more advanced avionics and nav equipment, which allowed it to seek targets independently of its firing platform, the Falcon was the pinnacle of fire-and-forget missile technology. So when twenty-five of them hit their targets, it was, to say the least, overkill.

The four ships simply ceased to exist.

"The remaining cruiser analogue is launching what appear to be fighters," Attila remarked casually. "Bringing CIWS online. Enemy frigates are increasing speed and moving onto intercept courses. Fifteen seconds to intercept."

Sysops delivered the next warning. "High energy ballistic warheads launched and inbound. Count 32. Impact in seven seconds.

"Target hostile one with the remaining MAC round," Locke ordered. The _Johnston_ fired at the same target that she had shot at mere moments before. Apparently, the cruiser's shields hadn't fully recovered yet because the MAC round tore through the shields and impacted the vessel's hull amidships, releasing a huge amount of energy. The blast nearly tore the ship in half. Secondary explosions ripped up and down the spine of the vessel until the reactor overloaded, tearing what remained of it into small fragments.

Before the fireball could dissipate, the torpedoes arrived. The _Johnston_'s CIWS guns put out a wall of metal to protect the warship, but eight torpedoes managed to get through the defensive line and impacted on the ship. Locke was almost shaken out of his command chair by the force of the impact.

Sysops called out again, "Shields down! Breach on deck 14."

By now, the remaining hostiles had aligned their bows with the oncoming _Johnston_. Five flashes appeared off in the distance of space, and seconds later, the bridge of the _Johnston_ went dark.

* * *

First Lieutenant James Peters was forced back into consciousness by a flood of drugs and pharmaceuticals delivered via his spinal inserts. He coughed and blood splattered on his monitor. The bridge was dark except for two faint emergency lights above the entrance. He realized that he was floating in zero-gee. _The a-grav must have lost power_, he thought. An instant later, text scrolled across his mind's eye.

To: Lieutenant, First class, Peters, James F.

From: UNSCDF MIL-AI ATL-576-42 ("Attila")

Lieutenant,

The rest of the bridge crew has been incapacitated. You are hereby the commanding officer of United Nations Space Vessel MFG–312 _Johnston_. Awaiting orders.

Attila

With that, a flood of information filled his mind. System reports, damage reports, a view of the battlespace that was as complete as the battered _Johnston_ could make it, among dozens of others. One glance at the damage reports told James what had happened. The hostile flotilla had, on accident or not, aimed for the bow of the ship. They had probably thought that if they couldn't get the whole bridge crew they would at least have gotten the helm. Humanity, however, had taken a clue from the Covenant and had begun placing the bridge in the center of the vessel to negate exactly that sort of attack. Their attack had been so overwhelming however, that the new ship design alone wasn't what had saved the frigate. In the precious few milliseconds before impact, Attila had dumped power from every system save life support into the forward shield projectors in an attempt to flash project them. Nevertheless, the entire front ten meters of the _Johnston_ had been vaporized by the impacts.

After briefly going over the information available to him, James did the only thing he could. "Attila, order all hands to abandon ship."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

James pulled himself towards the bridge door, muscles screaming in protest despite the narcotics surging through his blood. They didn't open as he neared them. "Attila, can you open the doors?" he asked.

"Negative Lieutenant," the AI replied.

"What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing."

"Then why can't you open them?" James asked, his patience running short because of the laconic answers.

"Analysis results in a 98.754% chance that all lifeboats launched will be picked up by the enemy fleet. The Captain's orders were to initiate Cole Protocol. Since you are the navigational officer, you hold at least partial stellar coordinates for ten Level Beta or higher population centers in your memory banks. You are therefore included in the list of things that must not fall into enemy hands. That is why I cannot open the doors for you. Protocol dictates action. One minute after the last lifeboat has been launched, I am required to initiate a reactor overload. I'm sorry James."

James was speechless. He floated back to his station and strapped in. He looked at the photo of his wife and child attached to his console and whispered, "I love you so much."

The _Johnston_ exploded so violently that by the time the bridge tore open to let in the vacuum of space, First Lieutenant James Peters was already dead.

* * *

**T****hanks to everyone who has left a review/comment so far. I really appreciate it. Feel free to leave a review or PM any questions/comments.**


	3. 2: ATTENTION: EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION

UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND PRIORITY TRANSMISSION

ENCRYPTION CODE: NONE

FROM: ADMIRAL DAVID WHITE

TO: ALL UNSCDF PERSONAL

DATE: 12/01/2605

SUBJECT: STATE OF WAR

CLASSIFICATION: PUBLIC

/START FILE/

Attention all UNSC personal, as of 0920 hours, 11/29/2605, we are AT WAR. At the aforementioned time, a resupply convoy headed to our colony of Shanxi was brutally attacked without provocation. All ships were lost save one frigate which managed to escape to a neighboring star system.

The UNSC is being fully mobilized to combat this threat, which we strongly believe to be extraterrestrial. All articles of the Cole Protocol are hereby reinstated. Violation of these articles will result in court martial and/or summary execution.

Once again, we are AT WAR. The United Nations Space Command Defense Force, including all branches of logistics, intelligence, and military, are now to be at the highest condition of combat readiness.

Further information will be passed along as it becomes available.

/END/

* * *

**All right. I meant to attach this to the beginning of the next chapter, but there are some points I need to clear up. First, THIS IS AU! That means that not everything will be canon in either the Halo-verse or the ME-verse. Some things will change. Second, this story does not take place in the ME-verse at the same time that the games do. The only things that remains the same from Mass Effect are the characters and plot. For the Mass Effect-verse, these events are occurring about five hundred years later than they would have in ME. As such, the Citadel races have also been advancing culturally and technologically for 500 years. They WON'T be pushovers. The humans are slightly more advanced only because they were fighting a genocide-bent conglomerate of crazy aliens for almost thirty years. I WILL CHANGE THINGS.**

**Keep the reviews and comments coming. Thanks again.**


	4. 3: A One Way Trip

**1200 hours Military Standard Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Private Jake Armstrong, Aboard UNSV Battlecruiser **_**Terrance Hood**_**, In Slipspace, 7 hours out from Shanxi**

Private Jake Armstrong fiddled with the faceplate in his hands. Truth be told, he was nervous, more nervous than he had ever been in his eight years in the Marine Corps. This was his first orbital combat insertion.

"Hey Rookie," a trooper called out to him. "Nervous?" The trooper didn't wait for a reply before continuing, "Don't worry. This is only the second worst part of a hot drop. Wait until you're in your pod. Longest five minutes of your life. Your palms get sweaty, your heart rate spikes, and you start wondering what the hell you're doing. All that's separating you from digging your own grave is a lit-"

"Rodriguez!" a voice barked out.

The trooper who had been antagonizing Armstrong spun around and came to attention, "Yes, Sergeant Major!"

"You packed up?"

"Yes, Sergeant Major! Double checked and triple checked!"

"Good man. Now go and check again."

"Aye, aye!" Rodriguez barked and double timed over to his pod.

"How you doin' son?" For the first time Jake could see his savior. Sergeant Major Allan Gray stood before him. Fitted out in his combat gear, the man was a giant. He stood at over six-foot-eleven.

"Fine sir," Jake lied.

"Don't feed me that crap trooper. I've been doing this for a long time. I know how the new guys feel," Gray responded.

Jake sighed and said, "A little nervous."

The Sergeant sat down beside him. "Don't worry about the drop, Private. By this time you've done dozens of cold drops. The only difference is somebody's shooting at you on the ground. Still, doesn't affect the drop though, so don't worry about it."

"I'm not, sir. The drop doesn't scare me. I've been sky-diving since I was fourteen. I just don't want to freeze up in front of these guys, not when their lives could depend on it," Jake said softly so as to not be overheard. With all of the commotion in the drop bay, though, he didn't have to worry.

"You won't. Remember, there's no such thing as a green Helljumper. Every man here has years of combat experience. That includes you. You know how it feels to be under fire, bullets buzzing by mere centimeter overhead, your buddies in the dirt next to you. You can handle yourself." Gray broke out into a smile, "Besides, you have that fancy new armor. Even if you mess up, the armor'll take care of you. Now link up to FLEETNET," he said as he stood up. "The Colonel is giving a briefing in five."

Armstrong climbed into his drop pod and rested his head back. He felt a rush of coolness flood his head as his neural lace linked up with FLEETNET. He closed his eyes and everything went dark.

When he opened his eyes again he was in an auditorium filled with every Helljumper of the 19th Orbital Shock Battalion, all one thousand one hundred of them. On a stage in the middle of the imaginary auditorium stood eleven figures, the ten Company Commanders and the Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Roy Adams. As Jake looked around, he saw that the battalion had been split up according to their companies. More and more avatars were popping into life as the troopers linked up with FLEETNET. At exactly 1207 hours, the Colonel stepped forward and the lights dimmed.

"Alright, listen up boys and girls," he said. Instantly, the low murmur died down. "Good to see all of you here today. First things first though, I just got an update from Earth. I regret to inform you all that the Packers have just beaten the Eagles."

A groan erupted from half of the men there while the other half broke into cheers. The Colonel smiled and waited for the clamor to subside. "Now, on to more urgent matters." Behind him a blue, green and purple orb sprang into life along with a few thousand kilometers of its surrounding space. "This is Shanxi as of 1200 hours. As you can see, there are currently 21 vessels in orbit around the planet. MILINT has come to the conclusion that seventeen of those are combat vessels. The rest are transport vessels. Based on probable load capacity and the estimated size of E.T., estimates on enemy ground strength range from 1,500 to 7,000." The holographic representation switched views, now showing 25 UNSC vessels. "This is Taskforce Nimitz. We are comprised of fifteen combat vessels, five transports, and five relief vessels for the relief of Shanxi. The Taskforce is split into three waves. Wave one is the combat wave. That's us. Navy is going to exit Slipspace here." The projection switched back to Shanxi. An area appeared 25,000 kilometers from Shanxi and fifteen UNSC vessels appeared. "The navy will swing around the planet and drop us LOHV. They will then engage the enemy fleet. Once they have driven the enemy out of orbit, wave two will come in. This is the majority of our ground forces, the 3rd Interstellar Marine Expeditionary Force. Wave three will come in after the enemy fleet has been driven from the star system. Due to the nature and size of this op, you'll receive further instructions from your company CO. The proper programs have been loaded to FLEETNET. Good luck, and I'll see you all groundside."

Jake closed his eyes and opened the FLEETNET browser. He thought clicked on the download tab and scrolled down until he found the file he was looking for and clicked on it. It downloaded to his neural computer and he felt a brief moment of vertigo. When he opened his eyes he was in another auditorium, exactly the same layout as before but this time only one hundred men were present, the men of D Company, 19th Orbital Shock Battalion, also known as the Roughnecks.

"Good day gentlemen," Captain William Ramsey said. "I trust we're all doing well this fine afternoon."

A chorus of "Aye, ayes" rang out. One trooper said, "Not anymore sir, not anymore." He was met with laughter.

"That's what you get for betting on the Eagles, Jenkins," another voice called.

Ramsey smiled and waited for his men to calm down. "Alright. Let's get down to business. This is New Cape Town." Behind him a high-res satellite scan of the city appeared. "It is the smaller of the two cities on Shanxi. It also happens to be the capital. Somehow, ET figured this out and landed there en masse. It is our job to get him out.

"The battalion will be split into two divisions. One will attack Winslow, the larger city, while the other attacks New Cape Town. This is our objective." A large, old-fashioned building sprang into existence. "Objective Philadelphia used to be the Governor's Palace. ET has converted it into his Field HQ. Because we are D Company, we have the honor of evicting ET from his home. As you are aware, the taskforce will be dropping us LOHV. Some of you might wonder how low and how fast. The answer is sub-o and 50 kilometers per second."

A groan swept through the company. Jake was familiar with the concept of a Low-Orbit High-Velocity drop. The taskforce would come in very low and very fast to try and drop the OI as fast as possible so that they could slingshot out of the planet's gravity well and engage the enemy fleet. This tactic was often employed against entrenched enemies. Normally, the drop altitude would be a few hundred kilometers out. A sub-orbital drop, however, meant that they would literally be dropping _inside_ the planet's atmosphere.

"We also do not have a good estimate for predicted enemy resistance on the ground. Several of the enemy naval assets are in low orbit above their HQ. This blocks the prowler we have in-system from getting clear shots of the area," the Captain continued.

"Furthermore, New Cape Town is unique in that it does not have a spaceport. Winslow has the only large spaceport on the planet, so all of our reinforcements will be landing there. The four companies that are dropping into New Cape Town will be without reinforcements for at least 48 hours after the first troop transports have landed in Winslow plus however long it takes the navy to get rid of our guests.

Off to Jake's right a trooper turned to his buddy and muttered, "It's even worse than New Babylon…" The surrounding troopers shifted uncomfortably. Jake waited for the Captain to pounce on the men to be quiet, but nothing happened. Jake thought that they must have escaped notice.

"You have your orders. Make sure you have _everything_. We might be down there quite a while. Company dismissed," the Captain finished.

Jake closed his eyes and exited the program. He opened his eyes just in time to see Sergeant Gray climb out of his pod. "Is that all, Sergeant?" Jake asked.

"Yep," came the reply. Gray looked distracted. As Jake looked around, he noticed that a somber attitude had fallen on the company. Before the briefing there had been at least a little light-hearted chatter, but now there was none, especially from the older guys in the company. A thought struck Jake.

"Sarge? What happened on New Babylon?"

"It's where we earned our stripes," Gray replied, gesturing to the two blood-red parallel lines running down the right side of his faceplate. "Get some rest, Private. Last chance for some real shut-eye you'll have for a long time."

"Aye, aye," Jake said. He wanted to know more, but knew that he was dangerously close to a line that was better left uncrossed. He reclined in his pod and closed his eyes.

* * *

Jake awoke with a start as a hand shook him. He opened his eyes to reveal the face of Private Juan "Johnny" Rodriguez, the guy who had been antagonizing him earlier. Any signs of hostility were gone. Instead, the man was smiling mischievously.

"Rise and shine. It's butt-whippin' time."

As if in response, Sergeant Gray called out across the drop bay, "Get suited up and in your pods! We are dropping in 5 minutes and you don't want to be left behind."

Jake reached down and pulled out his helmet. He put it on and then pulled out his face plate. He attached it to the front of the helmet and felt the nanites of the helmet and faceplate flow together, creating a seal. His In-Helmet Display lit up, feeding data about everything from his vital signs to the suit's status to the ambient environment. He glanced to his left and right and made sure that his weapons were there. The pod's hatch slid shut. For a moment, there was only darkness. Then, the visual systems in the pod came online. Altitude, attitude, velocity, atmosphere, and a dozen other data streams flowed across the interior of the pod. Jake downloaded all of the data directly onto his IHD and then told the pod to display outside camera views.

A voice came over the company frequency. Jake recognized it as Captain Ramsey. "I want everybody in their pod in 30! It's going to get bumpy."

What followed were the worst five minutes of Jake's life. Despite the stimulants he took, his hands kept shaking. He had flashbacks to when he was a kid. A birthday cake with five candles. A bike ride through the Rockies. A voice came over the radio that broke him out of his reverie.

"Thirty seconds to drop, Delta. You are go for combat insertion. Good luck and Godspeed," the drop officer said. The DO was always female. Despite all the ruckus raised by critics about sexual stereotyping, the navy kept that tradition alive. It had been psychologically proven that that last-minute, friendly, female voice could have a large impact on unit morale.

The next thing Jake knew, he was in free fall. Walls of fire shot past his pod, blinding him to everything going on outside. Fifteen seconds later, there was a jarring shock and he was jerked to one side. He instantly knew something was wrong. He ran a system scan and saw the problem. He had collided with something on his way in. What it was didn't matter. His problem now was that his braking jet vents were bent shut and he was tumbling. With the jet out of action, he would have to rely only on his drag chutes. They would get him safely to the ground, but he was going to land hard. Very hard. The problem was the tumble. As long as he didn't hit a building on the way down…

He thought too soon. He saw a rooftop flash by his viewscreen. The next moment everything went dark.

**1903 Hours Military Standard Time, 0519 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Sergeant Major Allan Gray, New Cape Town, Old Sector**

The moment Sergeant Gray hit the ground, he knew something was wrong. Standard procedure called for Lieutenant Johnson to do a roll call as soon as his pod hit the ground. No such call was coming over the squad frequency, however. It wasn't unheard of for the communication network to go down during an op because of a lack of comm satellites, but Shanxi was fairly developed for an outer colony, with at least half a dozen comsats above the horizon at any one time. Add that to the swarm of satellites that the taskforce had dropped into orbit along with 19th Battalion, and there was almost no chance of zero signal. That meant there were three available options: 1. ET had some _really_ powerful jamming equipment on the ground, 2. The el-tee's suit had some sort of malfunction, or 3. The lieutenant was dead. Gray was dreading that last option.

Gray's pod hatch slid open and he jumped out of his pod, combat rifle raised, scanning for hostiles. His immediate surroundings were clear, so he relaxed as much as he could in a combat zone and turned around to his pod and grabbed the rest of his gear. He then moved to a nearby broken wall and crouched down. Just as he got there, a notification popped onto his IHD. He flash-read through the message that had come from BATTCOMNET and closed his eyes. The message was simple: First Lieutenant Johnson had died on entry. The squad was now under Gray's command.

Gray open up the com channel to Third Squad and said, "Alright third squad, sound off."

There was no hesitation as the calls started coming in.

"Three here."

"Four on the ground."

"Five."

"Six."

"Seven ready."

"Eight here."

"Nine here."

Gray waited for 3-10 to call in. Five seconds passed and still no call came in. He opened up a direct link.

"Hey rookie, you there?"

Silence answered him. Now that he was leader of the squad, Gray had special privileges. One of those was a program that displayed the vital signs of every member of the squad. Gray selected the tab that read "Armstrong, Jake, Pvt." Jake's signal was missing completely. Two things could cause that. Something might be blocking his signal or his suit, with him in it, had burned up on entry.

By this time, Gray's IHD had updated with the locations of all the other OI on the ground. The markers for Third Squad were blue, while those of the rest of the troopers on the ground were green. Gray noted the positioning of his men. He opened a link to the rest of the squad.

"Listen up 3rd squad. The el-tee bought it on the way down, and 3-10 is MIA, possible KIA. Rendezvous on me and then we'll move out to Objective Philadelphia," he said.

Within ninety seconds, the remaining seven members of 3rd squad had regrouped at Gray's position. They were indistinguishable from the outside, or would have been had they been visible. Their combat suits had begun to adapt to the surrounding environment, taking images of the environment and projecting them onto the outside surface of the armor. The effect was far from perfect and quickly ruined by gunfire, but it was good enough to break up the smooth outline of a trooper in powered combat armor, making it much more difficult to see him.

An icon popped onto Gray's IHD. It showed distance and heading towards Objective Philadelphia. Currently, it read "2.59Km" and "SSW." Gray signaled to the rest of his squad with his hand and they rose as one and started to move out. Fighting had picked up in the city by this time. To the east of Third Squad, explosions rocked the night. Gray recalled that the industrial sector of New Cape Town lay in that direction. ET would be very reluctant to give up that part of the city. Weapon fire boomed though the streets, but the immediate vicinity around Gray and his men was quiet. There was plenty of rubble in the streets and burned out car wrecks littered the road. Some buildings had massive chunks blasted out of them. This part of the city must have seen massive fighting during the initial occupation.

From what Gray had heard, through both official and non-official news channels, the local Marine and Army garrison had fought remarkably well, but they had been overwhelmed by the sheer number of hostiles. The last time they had been able to send a message they were down to fifteen men out of a garrison of one hundred. Shortly after that last transmission, their signal went quiet. If they were still alive, they were underground. Com chatter started to filter through the company channel, describing things like how ET looked, "They look like bird-lizards!", and what sort of weapons they used, "They're using hi-vel kinetic rounds. Boost armor rigidity to compensate." That last statement caught Gray's attention. He motioned to his team to stop.

"Everyone get that last one? Boost ar-rig on you suits," Gray said. The distance marker now read "2.26Km." Around Gray, the men of Third Squad adjusted their armor settings. Boosting armor rigidity slightly decreased the effectiveness of the optical camouflage system, but Gray was willing to trade stealth for security. A sudden burst of sound filled Gray's helmet, "Delta 3-2, Delta 1-1 here. Are you receiving?" Gray recognized the voice of Captain Ramsey over the radio. Explosions and gunfire roared in the background. Judging by the amount, the Captain was in the thick of it.

"3-2 here. Send it, 1-1," Gray replied.

There was a burst of static and then, "I just got orders from higher up. Your team is to deviate from your current course and move towards Objective Yankee." On Gray's IHD, a new nav maker appeared almost perpendicular to 3rd Squad's current heading. It was almost five clicks away. The Captain continued, "You are to meet up with call-sign Noble. Challenge is Sierra. Response is Falcon. Noble-1 has command. Any questions?"

"Time table, sir?"

"As fast as possible, Sergeant. This comes directly from the top. I don't care what you have to do, just get there," the Captain answered. "ROE is the same."

Gray wondered what the Captain meant by "the top." Did he mean Colonel Adams or someone even higher up? He said, "Roger that, sir. 3-2 out."

"Godspeed, son. 1-1 out."

Gray switched to the squad frequency. "Alright, change of plans. New objective is being loaded to your IHD. Target is high priority. Prep your jets."

* * *

**Oh, almost forgot. I have put a Codex up on my home page. It delves deeper into the back story than I can go in the actual story. It's not required to understand everything that goes on here, but it does flesh out some of the side details. And just like the Codex in Mass Effect, more entries become available as the story goes on.**

**Thanks, and feel free to leave a review or comment.**


	5. 4: First Blood

**Here's the disclaimer: THIS IS AU! Some things may not be canon for both Mass Effect or Halo.**

**1915 Hours Military Standard Time, 0531 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Sergeant Major Allan Gray, New Cape Town, Old Sector**

Gray turned to face the building between him and his objective. It was a seven floor business complex. Gray crouched and jumped. At the apex of his jump, he activated his suit's built-in jump jets.

He shot up just over sixty feet and landed gently on the roof of the building. Around him, the rest of his squad followed suit. Gray had a clear line of sight all the way to Objective Yankee. They were currently on the highest building in that direction, so it would be easy for them to get there. Gray ran towards the edge of the building and leapt over the edge. He used a small boost to get him over the street and onto the roof of the next building. He landed without missing a stride and kept on running. He repeated those few steps over and over again: run, jump, land.

Gray jumped for the tenth time when something caught his attention. Two figures were on the next building in line. His suit's combat intelligence labeled them as hostile. Gray landed, but instead of running onwards, he stopped in a crouch a few meters from the aliens. The two aliens were staring at him in what seemed like a dumb-founded manner. They started to raise their rifles. Gray charged forward, activating his suit's blades. A thirty-centimeter blade shot out from each of the suit's gauntlets, over the backs of Gray's hands. The blades had been nano-grown, resulting in each blade's edge being just a few atoms wide. This made it sharper than most known materials, capable of cutting through anything from warm butter to starship armor.

By the time the aliens had raised their rifles, Gray was already inside their weapon range. The alien Gray was aiming for swung his rifle's butt around to try and hit Gray, but Gray brought up his gauntlet blade and sliced the rifle in half. With his other hand he proceeded to cut the alien's gun arm off at the elbow. As his foe hit the ground screaming, Gray was tackled in the side by the other alien. They both went to the ground, scrambling for purchase on each other. Through sheer luck, Gray's hand came to the alien's throat. In that instant, Gray locked his gauntlet and fed extra power into his arm's servo-motors. He twisted the alien's head so hard that the creature's neck skin began to tear. He dropped the body. He went over to the alien whose arm he had cut off and put a single bullet through its skull.

"You okay, Sarge?" a trooper asked.

"Fine. Get going Rodriguez," Gray said.

Ten minutes later, Third Squad had arrived at Objective Yankee. By now, the sky had started to lighten. It would be daylight soon, and then the fighting would really start to pick up.

"So we're here. Now what?" a trooper asked.

"Can the chatter," Gray spoke into the squad frequency. "Keep your eyes open. Noble should be here any moment. Challenge is Sierra. Response is Falcon."

Just as he finished speaking, a new unidentified voice broke over squadcom. "Sierra."

Gray hesitated for a moment. Squadcom was encrypted so that only members of the same squad could talk to one another. Not even battalion commanders could break into a squad's frequency with that ease. Whoever Noble was, he had a lot of power. "Falcon," Gray said back.

There was a rustling of dirt and debris behind Gray. He turned around and felt his mouth drop open.

"Holy shit…"one of the troopers muttered.

Standing in front of Gray and his men was Noble. Gray couldn't believe his eyes. Five Spartans stood there nonchalantly, as if they had been there the whole time.

"Are you Third Squad?" the lead Spartan asked.

"Yes, sir," Gray replied. "I can't believe they actually sent Spartans, sir."

"They didn't. We were never here. Odds are we never will be. I'm commandeering your unit, Sergeant. Until this op is over with, you and your men are part of NAVSPECWAR. Understood?" the Spartan said coldly.

"Yes. Sir." Gray replied, coolly. He didn't like the way in which the Spartan spoke. It was too robotic, too used to getting what it wanted.

"Good," the Spartan said. His voiced changed suddenly, "I'm Noble-1. This," he said as he gestured to the Spartan to his left, "is Noble-2, my XO."

Gray noted that the Spartan had a prosthetic right arm. He was surprised when he heard a female voice say, "Hey."

"Noble-3 is up there," Noble-1 continued, pointing upwards into a six-story building. "This is Four and Five."

Four nodded his head and Five asked, somewhat jovially, "What's up, boys?"

The sudden change in demeanor took all of Third Squad off-guard.

"Sergeant Major Allan Gray," was all Gray could think to say. "This is the rest of my unit," he said as he gestured around.

Noble-1 nodded and said, "It's a pleasure, gentlemen. I wasn't aware that ODSTs operate in teams of 8 though."

"Our Lieutenant bought a piece of land on the way down," Gray said somberly, though not without noticing the Spartan had incorrectly labeled them Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. They hadn't been called that in decades.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Noble-1 said.

"Yeah, and the baby sheep wandered off and got lost," Rodriguez said. A chuckle spread through the team, before being cut off by a look from the Sergeant.

"What Rodriguez meant to say was that our rookie was cut off from us on the way down. He's still out of com," Gray said.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be able to take care of himself," Noble-1 said. "I'm sure you'd like to find him, but we have orders. We move towards Objective Zulu. Once there, we blow it sky high."

"What's there, sir?" Gray asked."

"Trust me Sergeant, the less you know, the better you'll sleep tonight," Noble-1 said as he turned around and walked into the sunrise.

**1935 Hours Military Standard Time, 0601 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Private Jake Armstrong, New Cape Town, Old Sector**

Jake's eyes flashed open. It took his eyes a moment to focus on his IHD. Everything was black. He slowly flexed his fingers and toes. He still had movement in them, so he figured he was, more or less, good to go. His suit showed that he had a fracture on his fifth left rib, but the suit had already injected him with meds for the pain and a bone growth compound to fix the break. He tried to activate his pod's camera systems, but nothing happened. Jake didn't like that. It meant that he would have no idea about what was going on outside as he exited his pod. He reached around in the cramped interior and made sure he had everything on his body. Rifle? Check. Sidearm? Check. Knife? Check. Equipment to keep everything operational? Check.

He took one deep breath and initiated the hatch release sequence.

The explosive release bolts primed and blew.

Jake sprang out into the unknown.

* * *

**Well, there's Chapter 4. I hope you liked it. Finally a bit of Helljumper VS. Turian action. That won't be all though, I promise that. There's a good bit more to come in the next few chapters.**

**Please leave a review/comment.**


	6. 5: Knives and Gunships and Magic, Oh My!

**Here's Chapter 5. THIS IS AU! Some things might not be canon in either Mass Effect or Halo.**

_Note should be taken of Recruit Armstrong. The recruit has shown EXTREME proficiency at all forms of martial combat, especially when there is a knife involved. I have had to prohibit the recruit from taking ANY sort of hand-to-hand weapon into sparing matches, for the sake of fairness for the other recruits. Fairness… Never thought I'd have to say that referring to a recruit._

_-Drill Sergeant Cooley_

**1938 Hours Military Standard Time, 0556 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Sergeant Major Allan Gray, New Cape Town, Business Sector 2B**

"Alright troopers, fall out," Gray said. Gray's men slowly started to move out after Noble Team. They had barely started moving out when a call came over the UNSC E-Band.

"Attention any UNSC forces receiving this message: This is Lieutenant Logan Williams of the Shanxi Defense Garrison. We have been discovered by a large contingent of hostile forces. Estimate around company strength. We are in danger of being overrun. Request immediate assistance. We are at the intersection of 15th and Adams. GPS coordinates are…" As he started to rattle off a string of coordinates, Third Squad came to a slow halt.

"Sir," Gray said, "are we going to help them?"

"Negative, Sergeant. Objective Zulu must be destroyed," Noble-1 said. He continued before Gray could say something, "I know you want to go help them, but we can't. Trust me, I know how it feels to leave men behind, but Zulu is our primary objective."

By this time, the Lieutenant had finished with the coordinates. "Please, we need help. JACKSON! BLOW THOSE CHARGES!" To the north of Noble and Third Squad a massive explosion rocked the city. The garrison must have planted a lot of mines. A massive smoke cloud appeared over the rooftops. "We have over three hundred civilians here."

That statement got a lot of attention. Noble-1 stopped in his tracks. "Noble-2 and Five, take the Sergeant and three of his men. Go to the Lieutenant's position and see what you can do. Save those civilians. I'll take the rest of Noble and Third to Zulu. Move!" Noble-1 barked.

"Sergeant, pick three men and follow me," Noble-2 said.

"Rodriguez, Levine, Williams, with me. The rest of you, play nice with the Spartans," Gray ordered and then ran off after Noble-2 and Noble-5, his three chosen men following close behind.

**1936 Hours Military Standard Time, 0602 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Private Jake Armstrong, New Cape Town, Old Sector**

Jake took in his surroundings in an instant. He was in a professional-grade kitchen, a restaurant's judging by the look. The problem was that he wasn't alone. Four aliens were in the room with him, rifles raised.

They started to shoot.

Jake lunged forward and took cover under a countertop. Produce exploded all around him. He looked to his left and smiled. Three chef's knives were lying on the ground. He blind fired over the counter to keep the aliens down and then quickly holstered his rifle and picked up two of the knives. He hefted one in each hand, instantly familiarizing himself with their feel and weight. He turned around to face the counter, still crouched to avoid drawing fire.

He stood up. Time seemed to slow. He picked the two closest aliens and let fly. The knives sunk into their respective targets up to their hilts in each aliens' neck. He ducked back down and shifted as far to the right as the counter would allow. He drew his rifle out again and popped up. He chose a target and depressed the target. The rifle kicked in his hands. A silver-blue aura appeared around his target. The alien he was shooting at ducked behind cover and Jake was driven back into cover by the second alien.

_Alright, so they have shields,_ Jake thought. It was strange that the rifle fire had been blocked, but the knives hadn't been. Jake decided to do something crazy. He popped over the counter and fired his rifle's under-slung 40mm grenade launcher. It hit the alien right in the chest and detonated, blowing body parts everywhere. Jake did a roll over the counter he had been using as cover and slid down a narrow corridor made by two more counters. He vaulted over the one on his left and came face to face with the last alien. Jake drew his combat knife and attempted an underhand stab. Then something unexpected happened. A blue-black aura appeared around the alien that was different than the shields. Jake felt his knife thrust stop, despite all the power of his Dragon Mark IV Combat Armor behind it. The next thing he knew he was floating in the air. A ball of… something appeared in the alien's hand. It was tinted blue on the outer edges, but the center was black. The alien threw the ball at Jake and Jake flew across the kitchen. He impacted the opposite wall with enough force to leave a crater in it. Jake dropped onto the ground into a crouch. _What the hell…_ he thought.

He stood up with his rifle in his hands. He primed the 40 mike-mike and launched another round. The same aura appeared around the alien again as he raised his hand as if to catch the grenade. The grenade stopped in mid-air. The alien flicked his wrist and the grenade flew out the window and exploded.

That was when all hell broke loose.

**1940 Hours Military Standard Time, 0606 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Catherine-B320, New Cape Town, Old Sector**

Noble-2 was crouched with the four ODSTs and Noble-5 behind the remains of a wall. In front of them was a hotel's courtyard. At least eighty aliens were in the courtyard, firing into the hotel. Sporadic fire came from the hotel's lobby as the few defenders left tried to hold the entrance.

"There are way too many of 'em boss," Jorge said. "Even for us."

"I know," Kat said. "Think there's enough room here for the _Heaven_ to come in?"

Jorge looked up and scanned the airspace, "Yeah, she'll fit in no problem."

"Alright, I'm calling in CAS." She turned to the four troopers with her. "Stay down, things are about to get loud." She switched frequency to the E-Band. "Lieutenant Williams. You have friendlies to your two o' clock. Tell you men to get down and take cover and make sure the civilians are well protected. Close-air support is inbound."

"What? Who is this?" Williams came back over the comm.

"Just do it Lieutenant. CAS will be here in sixty."

Silence for a moment and then a hesitant, "Understood…"

"_Heaven Above_, this is Noble-2. Requesting FSP Delta-9 on my coordinates, danger close. Targets will be lazed. Be advised, building Bravo Two-Seven contains UNSC forces and a large civilian population," Kat said into her radio.

"Roger that Noble-2. Support inbound, forty-five seconds," the voice of the _Heaven_'s AI came back.

"Ma'am, what's going on?" one of the troopers, the Sergeant, asked.

"We're going to teach ET a lesson he won't soon forget."

Thirty seconds later, a tear in space opened up above New Cape Town. Out of the tear emerged the UNSV _Heaven Above_. The stealth frigate's air brakes were fully engaged. She was rotated slightly on her side, with her portside facing the ground. She was two hundred meters off the ground.

"Oh Hell, no," Rodriguez said.

From her vantage point, and with her enhanced vision, Kat could see the gun barrels of the frigate's CIWS guns spinning up. The next second they unleashed a torrent of 30mm high-explosive rounds fired at five thousand rounds a minute each. Six guns were involved in the barrage. The deluge of rounds lasted for a full fifteen seconds. The sound was overwhelming and the ground shook. When the attack stopped, everything was eerily quiet. Kat peered over the edge of the wall.

There was nothing left of the courtyard.

"Another satisfied customer," the _Heaven_'s AI said.

"Thanks for the assist," Kat said. She continued, "Lieutenant Williams, the area is secure. We will remain on site to provide further support should you need it." The _Heaven_'s engines flared as she accelerated back into the safety of space.

Men had started emerging from the hotel's lobby. The four ODSTs that were with Kat and Jorge were admiring the scene.

"ET is so screwed," one of them said.

The rest chuckled.

**1942 Hours Military Standard Time, 0608 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Private Jake Armstrong, New Cape Town, Old Sector**

Jake and the alien were thrown to the ground by the most violent shaking either of them had ever felt. Outside, it sounded like the apocalypse. A deafening roar drowned out everything else in existence. After what felt like an eternity, the shaking stopped. Jake was the first to recover. He dimly realized that somebody must have called in orbital fire support. He hefted his knife again and charged at his foe. He was almost on top of the alien before it reacted. It rolled backwards out of Jake's reach and leapt forward, tackling Jake in the chest. They both flew backwards. The alien landed on top of Jake and started landing hits on Jake's armor, his fists cloaked in the strange aura. He could feel the hits _through_ his armor. Jake tensed and leapt up, with the alien still on his chest. His armor magnified the strength of his movements several fold. He slammed the alien into a wall and then body-slammed it onto the ground. The blue-black aura appeared around the alien again and suddenly Jack was pinned to the wall. The alien walked up to Jake. Jake could imagine the sneer on its face. It pulled a pistol from its holster and aimed it at Jake's faceplate.

There was a banging at the kitchen door. Both human and alien looked over in time to see five Marines surge into the room. Jake felt himself dislodged from the wall and thrown across the room into the lead Marine. They both went down, blocking the entrance. By the time they had managed to disentangle themselves, the alien was gone.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. I hoped you enjoyed it. There are one or two more chapters about the Battle of Shanxi, and then the story will start moving on a little.**

**Okay. I can see the potential firestorm, so I'll just get it out of the way here. The Lieutenant Logan Williams who sent out the distress call is Ashley Williams' grandfather. I know that in Mass Effect lore he was a general at this time. I bumped him down to Lieutenant because it makes more sense for the direction I want to go.**

**Now that that's out of the way, please leave a review or comment.**


	7. 6: BIG BOOMS and Subtle Trespasses

**Here's Chapter 6. Note: THIS IS AU! Not all things will be canon in either Mass Effect or Halo. That being said, enjoy!**

**1845 Hours Military Standard Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Admiral Kastanie Drescher, Aboard UNSV **_**Terrance Hood, **_**In Slipspace, 5 minutes out from Shanxi**

"Five minutes, Admiral."

"Thank you Stanley," Admiral Kastanie Drescher said to her nav. officer. "Is the fleet in formation?"

"Yes, Admiral."

Five minutes later, the _Hood_ and the rest of Taskforce Nimitz dropped out of Slipspace in a shower of Cherenkov radiation and other exotic phenomena. Shanxi loomed large off the port side of the fleed. "New bearing two six four. Initiate LOHV drop sequence," the Admiral said. The _Hood_ and the other ships of Taskforce Nimitz turned and accelerated towards Shanxi. Within minutes, they were skirting the upper edges of the planet's atmosphere.

"Drop sequence initiated. OI are on the way," an officer said.

"Nav., slingshot us around the planet. Steal as much velocity as possible," Drescher said. As the fleet rounded the planet, they got their first view at the enemy fleet. It was arranged in orbit about midway between Shanxi and its largest moon, Tierra, so called because of its majestic rings.

"Engines, full forward. Weapons, prep a heavy MAC salvo and put all gun batteries on standby. Get me a firing solution on the largest combat vessel. Bring fore shields to maximum power," Admiral Drescher called out across the bridge of the _Hood._ The battlecruiser surged forward, the rest of the Taskforce following close behind. "Seal all non-essential compartments and somebody get me a sitrep on my troopers."

"Engines answering full forward, aye sir."

"Within optimum firing range in twenty seconds."

"Gun Batteries standing by."

"MACs are armed and ready, Admiral."

"Shields fully charged."

"Helljumpers are on the ground and moving to engage. Reporting light resistance so far."

"Non-essential compartments evacuated and sealed."

"Entering maximum effective range now. Weapons standing by."

The Admiral waited for another five seconds to allow the entire fleet to enter range, and then called out on fleetcom, "All ships, fire at will. I repeat, fire at will. Break formation and good hunting."

As the _Hood_ fired her MAC gun, a rumble passed through the ship. Around her, the other fourteen UNSC war ships fired as well. Ahead of them, sixteen of the 21 alien war ships sped towards the UNSC battlegroup.

"Weapon discharges detected," an officer called out.

"Admiral," a new voice said, "it seems that the intel was wrong. Only 16 of the predicted 17 combat vessels are warships. The enemy thus only outnumbers us by 1."

"Thank you Artemis. Engines to one-fifty. Get us close to their flagship," the Admiral ordered.

"Engines to one-fifty, aye. Redline in fifteen minutes," another officer reported.

It took the _Hood _three minutes to close in on the alien flagship. In the space of those three minutes, the two fleets exchanged rounds. The MAC rounds tore into the enemy fleet with mixed results. The smaller vessels, those equivalent to human frigates, were torn apart by the depleted uranium/ferric-tungsten rounds. The UNSC frigates only fared slightly better. The alien war ships used magnetically accelerated projectiles also. One such round tore into the frigate _Lancelot_, causing it to swerve into a destroyer, disabling both ships. The destroyer class vessels of both fleets suffered damage, though the UNSC vessels came out much better. There were only two capital ships in the engagement, the _Hood_ and the enemy flagship, and both survived with only minimal damage.

"Admiral," Artemis said, "analysis shows that the aliens are also using magnetically accelerated projectiles. Based upon data from the other AIs in the Taskforce, we have concluded that they are using much smaller projectiles than we are, though they accelerate those to higher velocities than we do. Overall, our projectiles transfer, on average, 19% more kinetic energy than those of the aliens'."

Within moments of the salvos hitting, the two fleets were together. Some frigates stayed on the perimeter, waiting to jump on any crippled enemy vessels, while the other frigates, along with all the destroyers, moved to 'knife-fight' range. The _Hood_ charged towards the enemy flagship, trying to bring her gun batteries to bear.

"Bring us about to course one-four-five and prepare for broadside. Artemis, you have control of the ship," the Admiral called.

"New course, aye," an officer reported.

"Aye, aye, Admiral," the _Hood_'s AI replied.

The _Hood_ turned slightly, bringing her onto a trajectory that would carry her a few kilometers to the port of the enemy flagship. As the distance closed between the two, the _Hood_ began to roll on her axis. The two ships flashed by each other in an instant, but to Artemis it was more than enough time. As the warships passed each other, the twenty 1000mm and ten 1200mm gun batteries on the _Hood_ fired in rapid succession. The rounds tore into the side of the flagship, causing its shields to flare and ripping ragged holes in its hull where the rounds found a way through the shields. The _Hood_ pulled into a hard port turn, bringing her around the flank of the flagship. The _Hood_ prepared to fire a salvo aimed at the enemy's engines, but the flagship pulled up tightly, going perpendicular to the solar plane. The _Hood_ shot after her, her engines straining to bring the massive vessel parallel to the flagship. With a general melee ensuing beneath them, the two warships pulled board-to-board. Simultaneously, the batteries on both ships opened up. It quickly turned into a battle of attrition, one which the _Hood_ had been designed to win.

The Preston J. Cole-class battlecruiser was a new breed of warship. She had been designed not around her MAC, but rather around her thirty gun batteries. Her engines were larger and her hull more reinforced than vessels of comparative tonnage. She had been built to quickly close with threats and then pound them into submission with her gun batteries, while relying on her armor and shields to see her through the engagement. The enemy flagship the _Hood_ was slugging it out with right now hadn't been built to the same standards.

"Enemy flagship disengaging," an officer called out.

"The whole fleet is reporting the enemy breaking contact and heading out on an exit vector. Enemy vessels are entering FTL as we speak. It appears that they are leaving the system altogether. Congratulations, Admiral," Artemis said.

"This isn't over yet," the Admiral said. "Bring us into orbit over the capital." Drescher started to look over the incoming status reports. Of the five destroyers, two were destroyed and two would need weeks in a shipyard. Only five frigates were still operational and two of those were leaking reactor fluid. The enemy had suffered worse, losing seven warships in total along with three transports. "Tell NavCom we have secured the airspace over Shanxi. Contact the support elements and tell them that they are go for OPERATION: HOMECOMING. I'll be in my quarters. Captain Smith, you have the bridge."

**1855 Hours Military Standard Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Commander Tom Greene, Aboard UNSV **_**Nightingale, **_**In orbit around Tierra**

Commander Tom Greene stood on the bridge of his ship, the prowler UNSV_ Nightingale_, and admired the view. Unbeknownst to ET, Humanity was about to hand out a very large can of ass-whoop. It would not be handed out by Taskforce Nimitz though, however much the news media back home said differently. Taskforce Nimitz might win this battle, but they wouldn't win the war. No, the Commander and his team of hand-picked specialists would do that. They would never get the credit of course, but that was fine with them. Spooks didn't like credit anyway.

He turned around and walked through the bridge to his command chair. "How are we doing, Alice?" he asked his second in command.

"Excellent, Tom," she said. "You should link in. We'll make the connection in ninety seconds."

Tom didn't blanch at her using his first name. In fact, he encouraged it. Tom ran a very loose ship. In their line of work, you had to. As long as his commands were followed, he couldn't care less what he was addressed as.

He leaned back and felt his neuro-implants link up with the ship's network. The next instant he couldn't feel the chair against his back, nor the air brushing against his skin, nor the rise and fall of his chest as he started to breathe deeply. Instead, all physical sensations were replaced by the wonderful feeling of… Tom couldn't think of a word to describe it. Information would be the best word to use. Everything was data, a cool, steady flood of it.

Tom actually preferred to be in this state. Some called him anti-social because of it, but he didn't care. He just felt more rooted, more _alive_, whenever he was linked up.

_Tom,_ a voice said in greeting.

_Hello, June,_ he replied. June was the AI on the _Nightingale._ She was the newest AI in existence. As such, she was also the most capable, which is why she had been assigned this mission, which also happened to be her first. Around him, he could feel the presences of the rest of his team of cyber-warriors. _Well, let's get this show on the road. June, commence upload to enemy networks._

Tom found what happened next impossible to describe to people who had never undergone an upload into a computer network as a virtual entity. Needless to say, he found it the experience of a lifetime, and it was his job to do it. After the upload, he found himself in what at first glance seemed a very alien computer system. As he started examining and studying the base code, he found some very familiar things to the ways humans had been doing it for the past few centuries. For example, the aliens used a binary number system in their computers. Using this information, he quickly started to download and translate files.

It troubled him that there was next to no advanced counter-intrusion software. He slipped into their files without almost any effort on his part. The thought that he was being fed false information crossed his mind and he started observing the data stream leading back to the _Nightingale. _He randomly plucked bits out to examine himself.

The aliens called themselves the "Turian Hierarchy" and they were part of a larger intra-galactic organization called the "Citadel Council." The Citadel races consisted of numerous species, almost as diverse as the Old Covenant. He downloaded schematics on the vessels the Turians used. He downloaded stellar coordinates. He downloaded what appeared to be some sort of alien porn magazine.

To his experienced spook's eye, the things he was seeing all appeared genuine. _Was it possible for a space-faring race to be this lacking in the computer department?_ he asked himself.

He had just gotten to a set of files describing the Galactic economy when he felt a presence touch his mind. He shot up additional firewalls and strengthened his existing ones, preparing for the undoubtedly incoming retaliation for his trespasses. He leapt back at the thing that had touched his mind and came "face-to-face" with a computer construct.

QUERRY: PLEASE STATE INTENTIONS: AWAITING RESPONSE…

Tom stopped in his metaphorical tracks. This was obviously the ship's computer construct, but it was woefully inadequate and under-equipped. It was just a simple care-taker program, orders of magnitude weaker than even "dumb" AIs. Held up next to June, this program would look like a candle next to a sun, both in brilliance and magnitude.

QUERRY: STILL AWAITING RESPONSE: CAUTION: UNKNOWN CONSTRUCT MAY BE HOSTILE: ACTION: COMMENCE SYTEM PURGE

The thing's attempt to delete Tom was almost laughable. Tom decided to go with it though and eased his way out of the enemy computer system. He and the rest of the 22nd Cyber-warfare Group had orders to not interfere with any of the enemy vessels' operating systems. Get in, get all the intel available as quickly as possible, and get out. At first, the orders had been confusing. _Why not let us just destroy the entire fleet and not have to risk any UNSC lives at all?_ Tom had thought at the time of his briefing. The answer had come to him a second later. _The UNSC wants to keep its capabilities under wraps. Let the aliens think that humans aren't that advanced and soon they would make a mistake that the UNSC could exploit to great effect._

Fifteen seconds after uploading to the enemy network, Tom Green, _Homo sapiens,_ emerged out of cyberspace. He looked around to see his crew emerging as well. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and sighed contentedly.

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**There you go, guys. I hope you liked it. Just to clear any potential confusion, this occurs at the same time as the events on the ground.**

**Thanks a lot to everyone who has left a review and/or comment.**

**On that note, if you haven't left a review/comment, I'd greatly appreciate it if you did. **


	8. 7: A Dead Memory

**Hey guys. Here's Chapter 7. Nothing major, just some back-story building. Note: THIS IS AU! Not all things will be canon for either Mass Effect or Halo.**

**Oh, if you are easily offended by strong language, you might want to skip this one. Don't worry if you do. You aren't missing anything vital to the plot.**

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**2307 Hours Military Standard time, 0925 Hours Local Cape Time, December 20, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Catherine-B320, New Cape Town, Old Sector, Post Bravo-2**

"So rookie knows how to play with knives, huh?" Rodriguez asked.

Jake nodded. "Dad makes knives for a living. Still does it by hand too. I've had a lot of experience with them."

"You still got owned by The Freak, though," Rodriguez said.

The Freak. It was what they called the alien with the magic powers.

"That's classified, at least until we figure out what the hell it was," Noble-1 said. "Now get some sleep."

Outside of the make-shift shelter that Noble and 3rd had constructed, Kat and Sergeant Gray kept watch under a star-streaked night.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, how did you lose your arm?" Gray broke the silence that had been in place since they had taken up the watch.

Kat was silent for a moment. "Sorry Sergeant, but-"

"But it's classified. I know how things work," Gray finished. "Can you at least tell me why you didn't get a regrowth? I don't have a problem, it's just that it's so rare for somebody to get a prosthesis and not let the docs regrow their arm," Gray quickly added.

Inside her helmet, Kat smiled. She could tell that he was trying to make it seem like he wasn't curious. She felt herself return to that cold December day.

_'Please,' the doctor begs, 'you have to understand. If I cut off the rest of your arm to attach a prosthetic now, there's zero chance that they'll be able to regrow the arm later.'_

'_I don't care if you won't be able to regrow my arm later!' she shouts at him. The stub of her right arm twitches as she tries to reach for something. She realizes her mistake and curses. She then grabs the doctor's collar with her left hand and drags him down to her level on the gurney. 'Lope it off, Doctor, glue on a robot arm, and GET ME BACK IN THE FIELD!' she screams. 'That's an order. Do it, or I swear I will rip your damn hands off!'_

_ The doctor sighs and seems to shrink. 'Alright. Nurse! Prepare for an amputation. Prep 60cc of –'_

_ 'No.' she says firmly. 'No anesthesia. Just do it.'_

_ 'What?' the doctor exclaims. 'This procedure is highly traumatic, even for someone in normal conditions. You've been fighting for days. The suit is the only thing holding you together.'_

_ 'The fucking Elite already did half the 'procedure' for you! Just finish the damn surgery!' she screams as shereaches over and removes the remaining armor piece on her shoulder. The blackened stub ends halfway down her upper arm. She feels the scalpel cut her flesh._

_ When she wakes up, the field hospital is a lot busier than before. She glances over and sees the robotic arm grafted onto her shoulder. She smiles. Some idiot had painted the thing to match her armor._

_ She rolls over and sits on the gurney. She feels light-headed, but she's definitely felt worse. She decides to test her new arm out. The fingers twitch. Within a minute she has full control of her arm. She stands up and stretches. She reaches down and picks up her rifle. It is in the exact same spot that it had been dropped in when she had arrived. She checks the magazine and finds it satisfactory. As she walks out she snatches some ammo from dead and wounded Marines._

_ As she walks out of the field hospital, the doctor who had replaced her arm looks at her back. 'Godspeed, Spartan,' he whispers before returning his attention to the marine dying in his hands._

_ 'Well look what the cat dragged in. Another Kat.'_

_ 'Shut up Jorge,' she says to the hulking Spartan-II who merely chuckles in response._

_ 'It's good to have you back, Kat,' Carter says._

_ 'Good to be back, sir,' she says_.

"Sorry to disappoint, Sergeant. No story, just a hastily made decision." She turns to face the perimeter again. Above her, the stars continue their voyage through the heavens.

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**There it is. Hope you guys liked it. First off, I apologize for the long delay in getting this one out. School started up again last week. Unfortunately, that means that updates will be becoming less and less frequent. All I can ask for is your patience.**

**With that out of the way, let's get on to other stuff. The Codex is back up and running. You should go check it out. It's on my profile page. It has some cool little tidbits of info. Feel free to message me any comments/questions/critiques. As long as they're civil.**

**Talking about leaving civil messages… You should leave one for this story. The button you should click is right below. The previous chapter has garnered the most reviews so far. It'd be great if it could be surpassed.**


	9. 8: See? Violence ISN'T required

**Here's Chapter 8. Note: THIS IS AU! There are things that won't be canon for both Mass Effect and Halo.

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**0930 Hours Military Standard Time, December 23, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Vice Admiral David White, FLEETCOMHQ, Sydney, Australia, Earth**

"The intel we gathered by hacking the enemy ships has proven correct. We've detected a lot of signals coming from that sector in space. There's definitely something there," Commander Greene said.

"How sure are we this will work, Commander?" President Martinez asked.

"Fairly certain, Madam President," Greene said. "From what we've been able to discern, this "Citadel" is the economic, military, and government center point for the Turians."

"What about all these other species?" the President asked.

"Based on what we've translated, every species on the Citadel has a fair amount of autonomy, especially on matters of internal security, though they do contribute to overall security in all the systems that they govern. Odds are that the rest of them don't even know that a war has broken out. If we show up in a large enough force, we may simply scare them into forcing the Turians to surrender. We can end this fairly quickly."

"And if they don't surrender and instead attack us alongside the Turians?" she asked.

"Those are extremely low odds, Madam President. If it does happen, we just need to make sure that our fleet is large enough to handle it. A major advantage for us is how little they rely on advanced computer intelligences. If we need to, and if the rest of their ships are as badly protected as the ones we encountered at Shanxi, we could just shut all their ships down. None of them even have to die."

"Alright, I'm convinced. Admiral White," the President said.

"Yes, Madam President," White said.

"You are hereby promoted to the rank of Fleet Admiral of the Navy, either until the cessation of hostilities between the UEG and the Turian Hierarchy or until this government deems it fit. Congratulations," she said.

White straightened up and saluted crisply, "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am."

"That being said, Admiral, make it happen."

"Yes ma'am. I'll have an opplan on your desk by the end of the day," White said. This was no longer just an isolated incident. The UNSC was going to war and Fleet Admiral David White would be leading the charge.

**1452 Hours Military Standard Time, January 5, 2606(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Fleet Admiral David White, Aboard UNSV **_**Preston J. Cole**_**, In Slipspace, 1 minute out from the Citadel**

"Status report, please," Fleet Admiral David White calmly said.

"All systems check out and deep in the green, Admiral," Captain Lorrie York, XO of the _Cole_, said. "All fleet elements report green across the board."

"Very well. Socrates, please prepare the fleet for transition into normal space," White said.

"Yes Admiral," the AI said. "All hands, prepare for transition into normal space. Man your battlestations. This is not a drill, repeat, this is NOT a drill."

"Transition in twenty seconds, Sir," the nav. officer said.

The whole of Second Fleet dropped out of Slipspace roughly a hundred thousand kilometers from what the Turians called the Citadel. The forty three point six kilometer long structure hung serenely in space. It resembled a pentagram in design, with five massive arms coming out of a center ring habitat.

"TAC map updating now," Socrates said. "There are currently 1,415 ships in-system. Estimate 150-324 of those are combat vessels. Picking up increase in com chatter. They definitely know we're here, Admiral. That leaves us outnumbered by anywhere from 3 to 2 to 3 to 1."

"Thank you Socrates. Tell the cyber-warriors to get ready to shut down their systems and tell the fleet to prepare for combat. Nuclear and antimatter charges are to be ready for release on my command," White said.

"Yes, Admiral," Socrates replied. "All fleet elements report ready for combat. 19th, 21st, 22nd, and 42nd Orbital Shock Battalions report ready for combat insertion. Enemy vessels are entering into intercept courses."

White took a deep breath and then said to his com. officer, "Lieutenant, open up a broad-spectrum com channel with all the necessary translation protocols running."

"Yes, sir," the officer said. "You are currently transmitting to every vessel in-system and to the Citadel itself."

"Greetings," White started. In his mind he thought, _We come in peace. Take us to your leader._ Out loud, he said, "I am Fleet Admiral David White, Commanding Officer of Second Fleet of the United Nations Space Command Defense Force under the authority of the Unified Earth Governments." He took a breath. "We do not come seeking conquest. We are here not of our own free will. We are here because we were deliberately attacked by a force consisting of warships of the Turian Hierarchy. They then attacked and invaded one of our colonies. After we retook our colony, we found data that led us here. We know that there are several different species living on this space station. I, with the full backing of my government, now ask that you cease all hostilities with us.

"We do not come for war, though we will fight if we must," White started to finish. "We want peace. Please."

"Very well said, Admiral," the Captain said.

"Thanks. Now we wait."

"Sir, enemy warships are decelerating," Socrates reported.

Five minutes passed, then ten, twenty.

After half an hour of intense stare off between the fleets, a message appeared on the _Cole_'s viewscreens. White knew that it was also being broadcast to every other viewscreen in the entire fleet.

A shockingly human face appeared on the screen. She appeared female but her face was blue and it looked like tentacles were sprouting from the back of her head. White recognized her as an "Asari." When she spoke it was in heavily accented English, "Greetings, Admiral White and those of the United Nations Space Command and Unified Earth Governments. I am Councilor Tera of the Citadel Council. I am one of three Councilors. My counterparts are a Turian and a Salarian. I am an Asari. We understand what you have gone through over the past few weeks. We are sorry to tell you that this has all been a terrible mistake and all the beings of Citadel Space are sorry for what has occurred. We invite you to speak with us. We are sure that there is much we can learn from each other."

"Alright, Socrates. Begin the file transfer," White said.

**1522:135 Hours Military Standard Time, January 5, 2606(revised date, Military Calendar)/ UNSC AI MIL-ID SCTS 0567-62 (Socrates), Aboard UNSV **_**Preston J. Cole**_**, Serpent Nebulae, The Citadel**

For the humans of Second Fleet, the past half hour had been tense, but incredibly boring.

For Socrates, boring couldn't begin to describe how the past thirty minutes had played out. Socrates was a fourteenth generation Grade-SSS Naval "Smart" Artificial Intelligence. As such, he was capable of processing feats hundreds, if not thousands, of orders of magnitude beyond computer programs of the past centuries. At peak capacity, and with the proper equipment, he could perform trillions of calculations per second. If need be, he could run the combat and maneuvering operations of an entire fleet. Needless to say, he had been, as his creators would have said, bored out of his mind.

That was about to change. Socrates was about to release the largest information package in human history. It included everything about his creators, with the obvious exception of classified material and a few hand-picked files that he had censored himself. The spooks at ONI probably wouldn't approve, but there was nothing they could do about it.

As he started the data transfer to the Citadel, he made sure that the flow was little more than a trickle. This had been approved earlier by HIGHCOM to assuage any fears that the locals might have that they were under electronic siege. At the current rate, the transfer would take several days, but soon Socrates would open the proverbial flood gates, cutting the transfer time down to minutes. He hoped the Citadel systems would be able to cope. He didn't pay all that much attention to the transfer. It was a fairly routine operation, one that had been occurring for centuries now. Instead he focused the majority of his very vast intellect on the surrounding space. The nearest non-UNSC vessel was a mere 4,152.125 kilometers away, though it slowly moving away. Socrates guessed a 97.859 percent chance that it was a cargo vessel of some sort. The nearest confirmed combat vessel was 7,502.199 kilometers away and holding steady. The thing that really drew Socrates' attention was the vessel tagged as Hostile Alpha-1. The "Alpha" designation meant it was at the very least capable of being a flag ship. The "1" meant that it was the largest vessel in-system. Based on its size, Socrates was fairly certain that it was the C&C for the Citadel's defensive fleet. He checked the readings again just to make sure there hadn't been a mistake the first time around. It still read in at an impressive 1.7561 kilometers in length. It was staying at a constant 89,752.159 kilometers.

As Socrates double checked and triple checked the fleet's status reports, he saw several of the data files being transmitted. There were files on the Covenant, ranging from its beginning to what had happened to the separate species after the Human-Covenant War. One of the largest, and most redacted, files was about the use of Artificial Intelligences. It covered the three different types of AIs used by Humanity: Combat Intelligences, used by military ground personnel, "dumb" AIs, used aboard individual starships and in things like city maintenance, and "smart" AIs, used for important and oftentimes taxing assignments, like fleet management. Socrates' attention, at least, the part that was monitoring the transfer, was caught by the Spartan file. He found it rather amusing. It was so short and censored that he hardly saw the purpose of even sending it. All it said was how good the Spartans were at winning wars. He moved on. It wasn't his job to question the motives of his creators, however strange they might be.

"The file transfer is progressing smoothly, Admiral," Socrates updated.

"Excellent. I just got off the horn with FLEETCOM. A diplomatic convoy is en route. They'll be here within a few days. Keep a good watch, Socrates. I'll be in my quarters," the Admiral said as he turned around and walked off the bridge.

If Socrates didn't know better, the man seemed a little disappointed at the lack of bloodshed.

**January 7, 2606:** President Patricia Martinez arrives at the Citadel along with the top other members of government. Very limited contact is initiated between humans and the Citadel Races.

**January 9, 2606:** The first formal meeting between the UEG leadership and the Citadel Council occurs. The meeting goes on for 26 Standard Earth hours.

**January 15, 2606:** The UEG applies for an embassy on the Citadel. The Council says that Humanity must greatly decrease it naval strength, cease all AI research and development, shut down the Spartan Program, and mothball all Orbital MACs and cease production of all nuclear and antimatter weapons until Citadel certified weapons inspectors were allowed access. While the UEG is willing to bend on some of the issues, such as military spending and arms production, a major outcry from the UNSC and pro-human elements of the human government stalls all negotiations.

**January 16, 2606:** The UEG application for an embassy is denied. Tensions in the Serpent Nebula increase dramatically.

**January 18, 2606:** Fearing either an armed conflict with the UEG and UNSC or a second major power outside their control, the Citadel Council compromises with the UEG. A new condition is created called "a consulate." Under this condition, humanity does not play an actual role in Citadel policy, being placed below embassies but above non-Citadel states like the Quarians. While humanity is allowed to carry on in issues like Artificial Intelligence, humans are not protected under Citadel law. Nevertheless, 1.2 million humans emigrate to the Citadel over the next five years. While all of the other species are apprehensive of humanity, individual acts begin to improve human relations on the Citadel, especially among the non-Council races.

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**There you have it. Hope you liked it.**

**Expect a little bit of time skipping to occur over the next few chapters as I set things up for the story proper. Speaking of the next few chapters, don't expect them anytime soon. School is being a real pain, especially with my coursework. Also, Halo: Reach comes out in two days. **

**Feel free to leave a review/comment. It'll be much appreciated. Also, remember to check out the Codex on my Profile page for some additional background info.**

**A note to anyone who leaves a review/comment. Feel free to CRITICIZE (that means no flaming). If you do though, don't just say "this story suks." Tell me why. That way I can fix it and it won't suck anymore.**

**Thanks to everyone who has read and/or left a review/comment.  
**


	10. 81: And Who Said Diplomacy is Dead?

**Ok, so following chapter 8, I got messages from people saying that the timeline thing was a bit of a copout. I got so much stuff for both the first official meeting between Humanity and the Council AND for something about the occupation of Shanxi before the Navy showed up that I decided to do something about it. Now, this should have been part one of a rather lengthy chapter covering both of those topics. It has been so long since I posted a chapter, however, that I have decided to cut it in half and post them separately (the second half isn't done yet, but it's getting there). School has been (and probably will continue to be) a real [EXPLITIVE]. Hopefully, I'll be able to get chapters out more frequently from here on, though no guarantees.**

**Well, enough of that, here's Chapter 8.1.**

**(Do I really need to keep putting up "The Note"?)**

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**1515 Hours Military Standard Time, January 9, 2606(revised date, Military Calendar)/ President of Earth and her Colonies Patricia Martinez, In Citadel Tower**

"Well, this is it," Patricia muttered.

"Ma'am?" the towering Spartan asked. He was Noble-1 if she remembered correctly. It was so hard for her to tell them apart.

"Nothing, just talking to myself," the President said. And with that, the elevator doors slid open soundlessly. Noble-1 and Three exited first and advanced into the atrium several meters to make sure the area was secure. After One gave a subtle hand gesture, Two and Four exited and took up position next to the elevator doors. President Martinez, Secretary of State William Howell, and Secretary of Defense Riley Masters exited next. Behind them came Admiral White, Colonel Zachary Franks, CO of Spartan Company, and Lieutenant Colonel Roy Adams of the 19th OSB along with his command group. Bringing up the rear was Noble-5.

Patricia exhaled a long breath as she walked out of the elevator. It had been a cramped ride up, to say the least…

They emerged into a large atrium. The group of humans walked down a long walkway that split to go around a fountain shooting water a few meters into the air. Beyond that was series of staircases leading up into a courtyard filled with rocks and what looked to be cherry trees. Beyond the courtyard was another series of stairs that led up to an overhanging stage area. When the President and her entourage got there, everyone peeled away besides Howell, Masters, and White. The four of them walked out onto the stage and stopped at the edge. What looked to be a computer terminal stood in front of them. Across a gap of several meters stood three figures, the Asari that had greeted the fleet, a Turian, and what Patricia guessed was a Salarian.

"Greetings, President Martinez and all of your company. It is a pleasure to meet you all at last," the Asari said. Her lips were slightly out of sync with the words Patricia heard. The translation program they were using still had several bugs in it.

"Indeed. Welcome to the Citadel," the Turian said. The President felt some of the soldiers with her, especially those under Colonel Adams, tense up.

"We hope that you will find everything to your liking," the Salarian said. Patricia noticed that the Salarian spoke at a very clipped pace, almost as if he couldn't get his words out fast enough.

"Thank you, Councilors," Patricia replied. "We are glad to be here on these terms and not on the alternative. I speak for all of Humanity when I say that I am glad that this did not end in bloodshed."

"Indeed, President Martinez," the Turian said. "In the Hierarchy we have a saying: No one values peace as much as the warrior."

Admiral White chuckled, and when the civilians looked at him, said, "We have almost the exact same saying back home."

"Before we continue, I would like to say something," Martinez said. When she received a nod from the Councilors, she continued. "As a sign of goodwill between us, I have signed a Presidential Decree that all Turian soldiers taken captive during the Battle of Shanxi be released to your custody, effective immediately, with no conditions attached. They are being transferred from our vessels even as we speak. Furthermore, I have ordered that all Turian corpses be exhumed from their graves on Shanxi and be shipped here, for retrieval by family."

The Council was silent for a moment and then the Turian Councilor spoke, "I do not know what to say. This is a marvelous gift that you have bestowed up us. I thank you and the Hierarchy thanks you. We are indebted to you, though I fear we will never be able to pay it off. Your actions speak of a nobility we have very rarely seen in the galaxy. You have given many families hope and closure, however bittersweet it may be.

The two sides talked for hours on end. They shared their histories and how they had gotten to where they were. The first interesting occurrence was when the Humans talked about the Human-Covenant War. Patricia could tell that the thought of a hostile coalition of alien species with advanced technology scared the daylights out of the Council.

"And where are they now, this Covenant?" the Salarian asked.

"They are gone, Councilor," White said. "We have not had major interactions with any of the Covenant races since 2555. The Sangheili are honorable though, and the most powerful. If they said they would leave us in peace and keep the rest of the Old Covenant in line, then they will do that. So, you don't have to worry about a hostile force kicking down your door unprovoked."

The mention of the Flood also scared the Council witless. It took the Admiral several hours to allay their fears and when the conversation moved on, they still didn't look completely convinced.

The most heated part of the meeting was when the Council discovered Humanity's use of Artificial Intelligences.

"Admiral, you must understand that we have a very deep seated mistrust for AIs," the Asari said. "Several hundred years ago, a race called the Quarians developed a hive-mind-like Artificial Intelligence. The more machines in close proximity to one another, the smarter they got. Eventually they rebelled. Today, the Quarians are a people without a home. They travel the stars in a massive flotilla because they lost all of their worlds to the Geth, their artificial constructs."

"Don't worry Councilors, our AIs aren't designed like that," Admiral White said. "We have two types of AI, "smart" and "dumb." Our dumb AIs are much like your Virtual Intelligences. They are extremely good at their tasks, but not worth much at anything else. Smart AIs can learn indefinitely, but they have built-in safety overrides that prohibit them from harming humans on their own free will. They also have very protracted lives, living on average only 28 years before they literally think themselves to death," White said hoping to convince them of the non-violent nature of AIs. He felt that this was a very sensitive spot for the Council, so he knew that he had to try and convince them. They didn't look all that convinced though.

Eventually, the President could tell that the meeting was winding down. She was about to thank the Councilors for their hospitality, when the Turian started speaking.

"We have one more subject that we would like to talk about. You mentioned several times in your retelling of your war with the Covenant of these Spartan super-soldiers. We would like to know if these are the soldiers you used to retake your colony."

All eyes turned to White. He hesitated. He hadn't been told to not talk about the Spartan Program, but it wasn't exactly classified either. Anyone back home could find out what sort of augmentations Spartans went through, but nobody talked about it. Officially, the Program was classified top secret but everybody knew about it and the UNSC knew that everybody knew.

Before White could say anything though, Colonel Adams spoke up as. "No Councilors, those were not Spartans. They were my men. I am Colonel Roy Adams of the 19th Orbital Shock Battalion of the Orbital Infantry," he said as he walked up to join the group of officials.

A ripple passed through the Council so quickly that White had trouble believing he saw it at all.

"Tell us a little about this Orbital Infantry, Colonel," the Asari said.

Adams looked to White, who in turn looked to the president. Upon receiving a nod, he passed it on. With the Admiral's permission, Adams began, "We are descended from the ODSTs that the Admiral mentioned from the Human-Covenant War, though we are organized differently. The ODSTs were a part of NAVSPECWAR, the Navy's Special Forces Division. The OI is a completely separate branch on the UNSC military, though we still rely heavily on the Navy for transportation. The main thing we have in common with the ODSTs of the past century is that we are shock troopers. We are sent in to disrupt the enemy through any means necessary. One of those means is our method of insertion, the drop pod. We insert from orbit in our drop pods onto any part of the planet, without warning. If I may hazard a guess, I'd say that it worked fairly well on the Turians on Shanxi.

"We draw on the other branches of the military to fill our own. An OI candidate must pass very strict requirements to even be considered for entry. Every man in the OI has had several years of combat experience, so no trooper ever goes into combat not knowing what to expect. Every candidate also undergoes several psychological tests and is asked questions about his loyalty to the UNSC, his dedication, how well he handles being under fire, things like that. We also have a very different way of training our officers. In the other branches, anyone can apply to officer school and become one that way. In the OI, an officer must be recommended by his superiors as being possible leadership material. Because of this, we have a very bottom heavy organization, that is, we have very few officers for each enlisted man," he said. He had decided to give a very broad overview of the OI. He didn't want to give the aliens too much.

"Interesting…" the Salarian said. "We have heard incredible reports of your men, Colonel, all of them praising their combat skills. We must ask though, if those men were not Spartans, then where were _they_?"

"There were no Spartans on Shanxi, Sir," Colonel Franks said for the first time. "FleetCom did not see the retaking as important enough to devote Spartan Company Personnel."

"And who are you, soldier?" the Turian asked.

"Colonel Spartan-E258, Commanding Officer of Spartan Company, Sir," came the stoic reply.

"And what's your name, Colonel Spartan-E258?" the Salarian asked. It was obvious he thought the Spartan's reply had been silly.

"Classified. Sir."

"Well, Colonel," the Turian said. "What _can_ you tell us about yourself and your Spartans?"

Franks was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, he began to speak. "We are humanity's Sword and Shield, both her first line of defense and her last. When failure is not an option, we are sent in. The rest of the military is excellent at waging a conventional war, but when things start to go south, Spartans are called in to fix things. We _are_ the best of the best. Whereas OI candidates undergo several weeks of psych-evals about their loyalty and all that, Spartan Candidates are asked one simple question: Will you commit yourself to this Program?"

"So, you don't worry about their loyalty?" the Asari asked.

Franks chuckled. "We don't need to. Spartans are lifers. Once you become a Spartan, you die a Spartan. Every man and woman under my command is a volunteer. They joined up solely because of their love of humanity and their dedication to protect her at any personal cost."

"So how does one become a Spartan?" the Turian asked.

"You are asked to join. You are asked when you have done something that exhibits skill in the art of war, dedication to duty, and love of country."

"The tales that come down from the Human-Covenant War are incredible. Some would say unbelievable, impossible. I must say that we on the Council find it hard to believe some of these stories. One man going up against an entire Battalion? A handful destroying an entire Covenant armada? Could time not have… exaggerated these stories some?" the Turian inquired.

"No," Franks said firmly. "These aren't stories. If you doubt the combat efficiency of my Spartans, say it. DO NOT insinuate that these men and women aren't capable of what the "stories" say they are.

White could tell that Franks was becoming irritated. "Easy, Colonel," he said firmly.

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir," came the short reply.

There was a moment of silent tension. It was broken when the Asari spoke up and said, "Well, I think that this has been quite an informative meeting. May I suggest that we break for a while to allow for some rest?"

**0930 Hours Military Standard Time, January 10, 2606(revised date, Military Calendar)/ President of Earth and her Colonies Patricia Martinez, In Citadel Presidium**

"It's beautiful," Martinez said.

"We are quite proud of what we have accomplished here. The Presidium is the showcase of what the Citadel races can achieve," the Salarian said.

"Is it always this empty though?" Martinez asked.

The Asari laughed softly and then said, "No, the Presidium is normally the third busiest part of the Citadel, behind the Fifth and Seventh Wards. This is just part of our first contact policy. We have found from past experience that the introduction into the galactic stage can be a bit harrowing for some species. This allows new arrivals to get acclimated before they are introduced fully."

"That's smart. It keeps new species from getting overwhelmed, and I can see how easy that would be," Martinez said.

The group, composed of the human representatives and the three councilors, walked along a pristine walkway beside a beautiful lake.

"This is the elevator that leads down to Citadel Security Headquarters. C-Sec is the Citadel's police force. They are responsible for maintaining peace on the Citadel," the Turian said. "If something wrong happens on this station, it will pass through there sooner or later."

As the group walked away, a shout sounded out from the entrance, "STOP HIM!"

The group turned around in time to see a massive beast storm out from the entrance of the elevator. Even from this distance the rage was visible in its eyes. It paused in the doorway and looked around. It saw the group and charged them. The naval officers and civilian representatives at the back of the group scattered.

A group of men emerged from the elevator entrance, pistols in hand. They lined up to shoot but then saw the Council. They hesitated and in those few seconds, something incredible happened. Jorge locked eyes with the charging beast and it locked eyes with him. Spartan Time kicked in. Everything started to slow down.

Jorge realized that he was the only thing between the beast and the Council. Time continued to slow down. As the beast reached him, Jorge grabbed it and _threw_ it upwards. Its forward momentum carried it over the heads of the Council. Before anyone else could move, the Spartans jumped into action. They lined up in front of the Council, weapons raised. The beast halted its slide and got up and turned around. It roared and charged again. They opened fire. Rounds tore into the beast but it didn't slow down. It crashed into Jorge again, who tumbled backwards, but only after he had gotten a solid grip on the thing. They struggled on the ground for a moment and then rolled to the side, over the edge of the walkway.

They fell down into a little shrubbery where they struggled among the exotic flowers and plants. Finally, Jorge was able to reach his combat knife. In one quick movement, he drew the blade and sank it up to its hilt in the side of the thing's head, right behind the eye.

To both his amazement and his dismay, the head wound only appeared to anger the beast even more. It reached up, pulled the knife out, and threw it away. Jorge settled into a fighting stance. The beast took one step and then was crushed to the ground as half a ton of Spartan landed on him. Emile jumped off the thing, his kukri in hand. He started swiping and stabbing at the thing as it lay on the ground. It kicked Emile in the chest, hard. It then jumped on him and started punching Emile, whose shield flared under the assault. Jorge ran up behind it. When they had been wrestling earlier, he had seen that the thing had some sort of bony ridge-plate right over its eyes. Now, Jorge grabbed the front of the plate and started pulling. The thing stopped attacking Emile and tried to get hold of Jorge, but couldn't because of their positioning. Emile did a scissor kick; one foot going into each of the thing's out-stretched arms. There was a sickening crack as bone snapped, followed by an even more sickening sound of flesh ripping. Jorge tore the entire plate off of the creature's head. Underneath, he could see the thing's brain. He punched his gauntleted hand into the thing's brain cavity, got a good hold and ripped the entire brain out of the thing's head. The body instantly went limp, falling onto Emile. With a grunt, the Spartan pushed the corpse off of him.

The two blood-soaked warriors looked up. Above them, the Council and the rest of the human personnel present were looking down into the pit where the fight had occurred. Colonel Franks was looking extremely satisfied. The Admiral remained stoic as ever. President Martinez looked slightly nauseous. The Council was utterly speechless. The Asari looked taken aback. The Salarian looked mortified. The Turian looked the closest to average.

Finally, the Asari managed to say, "You… you killed a Krogan with your bare hands…"

The way she said it made it obvious that the feat that the two Spartans had just pulled off was something incredible. As if on cue, Colonel Franks said, "So, do you still think those stories are exaggerated?"

**1000 Hours Military Standard Time, January 15, 2606(revised date, Military Calendar)/ President of Earth and her Colonies Patricia Martinez, In Citadel Tower**

President Martinez took a deep breath and then spoke. "Dear Councilors. I speak on behalf of all human kind when I say that we appreciate all of the hospitality that you have shown us over the past few days. What you have accomplished here is utterly remarkable. The only other experience we've had with a foreign conglomerate ended in ruin.

"There is much that we can learn from each other, socially, culturally. It is because of this great exchange that can take place that I hereby petition the Council to allow the Unified Earth Governments and all of Humanity to establish an Embassy on the Citadel so that we may further engage with one another."

"We are pleased that your species has decided to make this commitment. Joining the Citadel is one of the greatest steps a civilization can take. We would welcome you into the Citadel.

"There are, however, some stipulations that must be made."

Inwardly, Martinez sighed. She had known this was coming. Nothing, be it good or bad, ever came free. "And what are these stipulations, Councilors?" she asked.

"Above all, we strive to maintain peace among our constituents. To join the Citadel, we would need evidence that humanity is willing to not only accept that peace, but also to help it grow. Your military's fleet is very impressive in both capability and scale, but you are to be part of something larger. Therefore, our first condition is that you reduce you naval assets by 50 percent, effective immediately, and maintain those numbers. This level is, of course, open to negotiation once humanity has established itself on the Citadel. In addition to this, all military vessels over 1 kilometer and orbital defense installations with equivalent weaponry are to be put in a state of deactivation until Council weapon inspectors are given access. Also, production of nuclear and antimatter warheads is to be ceased immediately."

Martinez could feel the military personnel with her cringing with each sentence, but they knew better than to speak up. "Thank you," she said. "If you will let us retire for the night, I have much to discuss with my advisors."

"By all means. We look forward to your response."

**1500 Hours Military Standard Time, January 15, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Fleet Admiral David White, Aboard Spaceship One**

"With all due respect Madam President, these demands are ridiculous. How can they expect us to even consider them?" Admiral White said. The room was quiet for an awkward moment. "You're considering them, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," President Martinez said, calmly. "And before you ask why, think about it. For the past century, all we've known is war. First the Insurrection, then the Covenant. Wouldn't peace be nice for a change?"

"It would, ma'am, but need I remind you that we don't go looking for war, war finds us. We need to be prepared for all eventualities. We don't know what is still out there. We need to be ready," the Admiral replied. "Shanxi showed us that."

"I'm with Admiral White," Secretary of Defense Masters said. "Preparation is vital. We learned a lot of bloody lessons in the 2500s. It'd be a damn shame to see it all go to waste."

"It won't have all been in vain though," Secretary of State Howell said. "We all made mistakes. We learned from them and now have to move on. This is a new era. We can still honor past sacrifices while moving forward."

"They said the same before and after all three world wars too…" White muttered. Howell shot him a cold glare.

"My point," Howell continued, "is that why should we have to fight anymore if the Citadel is there to do it for us?"

"And why would they do that?" White asked.

"They said it themselves. They'll help protect our colonies. Why should we have to send our boys off to get killed, if the Council will do it?"

"That is bullshit and you know it Mr. Secretary! Mark my words, if we ever need anything from them, they'll say no, it's our problem, not theirs!"

"Enough," Martinez said. "Thank you all for your input, you are dismissed." The three men in the room stopped and looked at each other. Martinez rarely spoke in the tone she had just used. They started to file out of her office. "Stay a moment, Admiral."

White stopped and turned around. Secretary Masters closed the door behind him. "Ma'am?" White asked in a neutral tone as he came to attention.

"What the Hell was that?" she asked angrily.

"Ma'am?"

"Don't 'Ma'am' me. You were looking to pick a fight. You have been since I showed up. What. Is. Wrong." It was more of a demand than a question.

"Nothing, Ma'am."

"Don't lie to me, Dave. Something is up, I know it. Tell me what," she said.

White sighed and relaxed his pose. He said, anger creeping into his voice, "How can you just let them off the hook? They attacked us for no clear reason, and now we're all buddy, buddy? I still don't even know exactly why they attacked us. Nobody does. And they don't seem to be in a hurry to tell us. So, _you_ tell _me_, why are we letting them off the hook?"

"It was a mistake, Dave. All the signs point to that. One of their captains was just a little too overeager. You know very well that we have many captains in our fleet who would have acted the same. Besides, they saw what we are capable of at Shanxi. They know that-"

"No, they don't! I have enough firepower out there," he gestured outside the hull," to break a dozen solar systems down into their component atoms. And if memory serves, you gave me permission to do just that when you sent me out here," he said. "And all of a sudden, you're considering cutting our fleet in half? That's wrong and you know it."

"Admiral, don't try to appeal to my emotions. It's not going to work."

White's façade finally cracked. "Damnit, Trish," he cried out. "I'm not appealing to your emotions. I'm appealing to the fleet officer in you. What would your father and grandfather say to this? This fleet has seen humanity through thick and thin. We held the line, always. We didn't flee, no matter the odds stacked against us, which they always were. You can't kill this simply because you want to make friends with some aliens who were trying to kill us last week. We've done fine without outside help since we stepped off Earth. We don't need help now." White took a breath, "Please tell me you see the similarities here. A conglomerate of alien species led by three, for all intents and purposes, dictators? Sound a little familiar?"

Truth be told, Martinez _had_ noticed the eerie similarities between the Covenant and the Citadel government, but she didn't say so.

White continued, "If you plan to go through with this, tell me now, please."

"Why?"

"So that I can give you my stars. I won't be here if you kill her." And with that White walked out the door.

**1000 Hours Military Standard Time, January 16, 2606(revised date, Military Calendar.)/ President of Earth and her Colonies Patricia Martinez, In Citadel Tower**

Martinez stood in front of the Council as though she were a student in the principal's office. _No,_ she thought firmly, _I am not below them. I represent the human race and we are not their subjects. They cannot pass judgment on us._ In the far back of her mind a little voice added, _Not yet, at least._

For their part, the Councilors looked completely stunned about Martinez's rather blunt rejection of their conditions.

The Asari spoke first, rather hesitantly. "We are deeply sorry that we do not see eye-to-eye. This is a great opportunity that you are passing up. We ask that you reconsider."

"My response stays the same, Councilor. There is too much of a risk for humanity to allow me to go through with this," Martinez replied.

"Very well. If humanity will not concede to our conditions, then we have no choice but to deny your petition for an embassy on the Citadel. No other race has ever done this."

"And we are not any other race, Councilor." Martinez could feel her emotions fraying. "The last time we met a group of alien species, they tried to wipe us from the Galaxy. I cannot and will not allow humanity to ever again find itself in that situation because we are underprepared." She turned around and walked out.

**13:70 Galactic Standard Time, January 16, 2606(Human date)/ Turian Councilor, Council meeting chamber**

"We must reverse our decision," the Turian Councilor said. "And soften our conditions."

"Your reservations were taken into account when we drafted the conditions in the first place," the Salarian replied.

"Alienating them is the wrong move, one we will grow to regret in the future," the Turian said.

"And why is that?" the Salarian asked. "I do not deny that humanity would be a powerful ally both militarily and economically, but we have gotten on without them for hundreds of years. Why would that change now?"

"I saw the uncensored reports from the battle at their world. We initially had 11,500 troops on the planet. To our best estimate, they landed between 900 and 1300 men at first. That handful was able to not only establish a sizeable beachhead in both cites, but also sow general disorder among our camps. By the time that they landed their main force, our lines had been breached in a dozen places in each city. Our ships in orbit fared little better. Often times, their ships were hit multiple times by our main guns and not only lived, but destroyed their attackers. Their flagship went up against one of our new Bostra-class heavy cruisers. It was out-paced, out-gunned, and out-maneuvered. We were lucky to get off as good as we did."

"Yes, we know they are a fairly militaristic state, but no more so than the Hierarchy. Your point, Councilor?"

"They formed this task force in a matter of weeks, out of ships that happened to be in the sector, during a time of peace. According to the reports they handed over to us, they didn't even fully mobilize their forces. They didn't have time to. We saw only a fraction of the power they can bring to bear. Imagine if they had had time to fully mobilize. They would be either impossible to stop, or we would stop them only after we had lost far too much. We would never be able to win a war against them as we are right now."

"Are you suggesting that the combined forces of the Citadel would not be able to beat this… interstellar upstart?" The Salarian said. His tone made it clear he didn't think too highly of Humanity.

"That is exactly it though. They are not upstarts. They have been through this before. The Covenant beat them down and yet they still have the tenacity to get up, wipe the blood off, and keep going." The Turian said. "Once the," he paused to consult his notes, "Sangheili turned on the Prophets, humanity had enough of a breather to group. They were able to put prototype equipment in their few remaining ships and managed to start winning against the remnants of the Covenant."

"The factor of the Covenant and what is left of it is also of some concern," the Asari said. "Should they decide to stage a come-back, we would be very hard pressed to handle any conflict with them. That is one of the major benefits of forming some sort of agreement with humanity. They would definitely be great allies against any possible aggression on the part of the Covenant." She paused for a moment. "It was never out intention for them to take our conditions so seriously. We would have allowed them to start rebuilding within a year or two. Very well, I suggest that this Council proposes some sort of compromise with Humanity."

"I am in agreement," the Turian said.

"I see that I am out-voted here," the Salarian said. "No use in clinging to out-dated thoughts. Very well. I am in agreement."

**1800 Hours Military Standard Time, January 18, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ President of Earth and her Colonies Patricia Martinez, Aboard Spaceship One**

"Madam President?" Elijah Rook asked as he poked his head into the President's Office.

"Yes, Eli?" Martinez asked her aid. She put the pen down with which she had been about to sign the paperwork in front of her.

"This communiqué just arrived from the Council. Your eyes only," he said as he walked into her office. He stopped in front of her desk and handed her the communication pad.

Martinez opened the message after delivering proof that she was in fact the President and read the message. As she reached the end of it, a smile broke across her face.

"Tell the Council I will be there right away."

"Yes Madam President," Eli replied and walked out the door.

After she was sure she was alone, she looked down at the Executive Order that lay on her desk, the very piece of paper she had been about to sign:

**An Executive Order from the President of the Unified Earth Governments and the Colonies Thereof on the Resumption of Hostilities between the United Nation Space Command under the Jurisdiction of the Unified Earth Governments and the Turian Hierarchy under the Jurisdiction of the Council of the Citadel.**

She placed the document into the shredder by her desk, then leaned back in her chair and shuddered at how close she had been to unleashing war upon the Milky Way.

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**Please review/comment. It'd make my day. Thanks!**


	11. 82: Painful Memories

**Hey guys! Here's Chapter 8.2. This one didn't take AS long to get out as the previous one, but it still took a good bit of time and for that I apologize. Chapter 9 will be up much sooner because it is basically done already. The more reviews I get the faster it'll come out.**

**Just a little bit about this chapter real quick. It was meant to simply be a retelling of the events on Shanxi during the occupation. It quickly turned into a way for me to help advance the plot (as will be seen in later chapters). This means that it doesn't go terribly in depth with the occupation. I'm sorry if that leaves you disappointed.**

**PS The ending might be a little… controversial, but I like it (and it serves a later function). So no complaining.**

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**1230 Hours Military Standard Time, December 31, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, UNSCDF HQ, Sydney, Australia, Earth**

"This hearing will come to order," the Admiral said. "For those of you not already informed, this hearing has been called to investigate the events immediately before and during the Occupation of Shanxi. This hearing's secondary objective is to determine what action should be taken due to those events, if any, be they of a disciplinary nature or otherwise."

Logan sighed inwardly. In the wake of the Battle for Shanxi, a left-wing media outlet had published a story criticizing the military for allowing a human colony to fall to aliens. By the end of the day, every major news source in UNSC Space had jumped on the bandwagon, shortly followed by the Politicians. HIGHCOM had been caught up in the sudden deluge of criticism and had looked for a scapegoat. Normally, it would have fallen on the head of the commander of the Shanxi garrison. Seeing as that Colonel Strickland and all of the rest of his command group were dead, the guillotine had passed on to hover over Logan's neck, who was the highest ranking officer left from the garrison.

And there it hung, waiting for a word from blood-thirsty politicians.

"State your name, rank, and service number for the record please," the too-smooth voice of an AI said.

"Williams, Logan J, First Lieutenant, 56810-18642-LW."

"Thank you Lieutenant. It is the duty of this hearing to determine the exact events of the Occupation of Shanxi. Seeing as that you are the last surviving officer of that battle, the responsibility to retell the events lies solely on your shoulders. Withholding or altering even the slightest detail would result in a court-martial. Do you understand?" another one of the officers said.

"Yes, sir," Williams replied.

"Where were you leading up to the attack?"

"Sir, this information was covered in my report filed after-"

"We've all read your report, Lieutenant. We want to hear it in person."

"Yes, sir…."

**1045 Hours Military Standard Time, December 7, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, New Cape Town Defensive Garrison HQ, New Cape Town, Shanxi**

Logan couldn't believe it. Apparently, neither could the other Army Officers in the room.

"Sir, with all due respect, this is crazy," one of them said.

"I don't care what you think, Lieutenant," Colonel James Strickland said. "Those are your orders." At this point, a private walked into the room and went up to the Colonel and whispered something into his ear. Strickland nodded and dismissed the private.

"We just lost contact with the listening post in the Kuiper Belt," he said. "They're here. The _Pearl_ and the _Mist_ have moved into orbit over Winslow. They'll stay there to protect the population until most of them can be evacuated. They'll also be able to provide limited fire support. They estimate two hours until contact."

Logan was dumbstruck. He had signed up to protect his home from pirates and the like, not an alien invasion force. At least they would have some orbital support from the two frigates in space. It was only through sheer dumb luck that the _Mist_ was even here. She had just happened to be in range to respond to the _Pearl_'s distress signal. All other ships in the region had been directed towards the rendezvous point for the task force that was being assembled to fight the aliens.

Logan reclined back in his chair and pressed his palms into his eyes. He couldn't believe this was happening.

**1230 Hours Military Standard Time, December 7, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, New Cape Town Defensive Garrison HQ, New Cape Town, Shanxi**

Logan was shaken awake by a massive rumbling, followed by Colonel Strickland yelling. "Let's go Williams. On your feet!"

Logan sprang off the seat he had fallen asleep in and ran to his station in the red-lit room. The room shook again and dust fell from the ceiling.

"They're definitely dropping rocks," one officer called out.

"Negative, Major," Strickland was busy speaking into a head set. "Stay where you are and stay buttoned up. Don't let anyone in."

The person on the other end said something.

"If you open that damned door, I will shoot you myself! Do you understand?" Strickland yelled. "Major, is that clear?" He threw the headset down and looked to the communication officer. "Did they receive?"

"Negative, sir," she said. "They might have lost their uplink gear…"

"No, not with fiber optics. The bastard opened up his bunker. For now, we have to assume that they were compromised," Strickland said. "Distribute arms among the personnel on base. Try to get in touch with as many reserves still on the outside as you can. Tell them to hunker down and wait for the bombardment to cease then rendezvous with us at Point Delta-7."

"Yes, sir," she replied and set about carrying out his orders.

Logan walked over to the Colonel, who was leaning on the command table. "Anything I can do sir?"

Strickland looked up as if he were surprised anyone else was present. He was quiet for a moment. "Do you know the date, Williams?"

"The seventh?"

"Not just the seventh, Lieutenant. The seventh of December. Ever heard of Pearl Harbor?"

The name rang a bell, but Logan couldn't place it. "Can't remember, sir."

"Damn, what do they teach you kids in school now-a-days?" Strickland muttered. "Never mind, Lieutenant. Forget I brought it up." The room shook again, much worse this time. Strickland sighed. "I remember when the Covenant occupied Earth. How it felt to know that the entire planet was covered in bunkers but not being able to reach them. Watching as the fire rained down from the sky… Hating the people who were locked away beneath the surface for just leaving us. Never thought I would be one of those locked away."

"Don't worry, sir. As soon as they let up, we'll take the fight to them," Logan said, hoping to cheer up his commanding officer. An orbital strike struck again, causing several monitors to overload. Some personnel ran over for damage control.

Strickland looked around to make sure no one else was in hearing range. Those who were were too occupied to overhear. "No, Lieutenant. We won't be able to hold them off. Shanxi is lost. The only thing we can do now is keep as many civilians alive as we can until the fleet shows up."

**1420 Hours Military Standard Time, December 7, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, New Cape Town Defensive Garrison HQ, New Cape Town, Shanxi**

The orbital bombardment had lasted for nearly two hours, though it felt infinitely longer. Eventually, it ceased though, bringing a much needed respite. Strickland called Logan to him and said, "Lieutenant, we need to know what's going on up there. I want you to take First Squad and go scout. Report in regularly and keep a low profile. Questions?"

"No, sir," Logan replied.

"Very well. You are dismissed."

Logan wove his way through the tunnels of the subterranean base. Though they were still technically under a lockdown, which meant no one entered and no one left, injured soldiers had started to filter in through backdoors, often bringing civilians with them. Strickland probably didn't approve, but he didn't say anything about it.

Logan walked into the barracks/armory and observed the scene. The men present were engaging in the age old soldier's tradition of trying to not think about the fact that they could all be dead in a few hours. It was with some reluctance that he called out, "First squad, gear up! We're heading up. Meet me at the entrance."

Heads jerked up and men sprang into motion. Friends in different squads called out to each other with fake optimism. Within five minutes, Logan was standing at the entrance with ten other men, all dressed in battle rattle.

"I can't believe this…" one of the soldiers muttered.

Logan raised an eyebrow at him in question.

"_Kevlar_, sir," the trooper said as he gestured to the armor around his torso. "Crap isn't even bullet-proof."

"Nothing we can do about that now, Private," Logan replied. He turned to the door operator. "Open her up."

The door started to grind open and First Squad filed out, weapons at the ready.

**1445 Hours Military Standard Time, December 7, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, West Park Plaza, New Cape Town, Shanxi**

"Damn…"

Logan shared the sentiment exactly, though rank forbade him from expressing it. First Squad was in a copse of trees on a small hill on a park overlooking New Cape Town. They were dug in and concealed as best as possible. The city was wasted. Buildings, or what remained of them, lay strewn all over the place and fires burned everywhere. "This is Williams," He spoke into his mic.

"Go ahead son," Strickland's voice came back.

"It's a mess out here, sir. We are currently in West Park. The city actual is ruined. It looks like they took out everything that they thought might be a communication device," Logan reported. "Not much left standing in down town. No sign of the enemy though."

"Very good Lieutenant," Strickland replied. "If it is at all possible try to move further into the city, try to make contact with any survivors. If not, establish a perimeter around the bunker so that we can get more men out there."

Logan was quiet for a moment. "You're leaving the decision with me, sir?"

"I don't have a complete picture of what's going on out there, Lieutenant. You have the most complete one. I trust your judgment."

The trooper next to Logan, one Sergeant James Rickson, interrupted. "Sir! Look." He pointed up into the sky.

Logan brought up his viewfinders and zoomed in on one of the objects descending from space. "Colonel, we have dropships inbound. Repeat, dropships inbound."

"Roger that, fall back to the bunker."

Logan was about to issue the order to begin falling back when the world exploded around him.

**1451 Hours Military Standard Time, December 7, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, West Park Plaza, New Cape Town, Shanxi**

Logan awoke to a large weight falling on him. He opened his eyes and the vacant eyes of Sergeant Rickson stared back at him, half of his jaw missing. Logan felt like he was going to throw up, but pushed it aside. He felt a pair of hands grab his harness and pull him out from under the body. He looked up to see a private pulling him back over an embankment with a handful of other soldiers. Logan was amazed at how quiet it was. When he saw a trooper fire his rifle over the embankment, he realized it wasn't quiet, he just couldn't hear anything.

Suddenly two hands grabbed him and started shaking him, not violently, but strongly enough to snap him out of his shell-shock. He looked into the eyes of the squad's other sergeant, Tony Vargas. His mouth was moving, but Logan couldn't hear anything. Painfully slow, his hearing returned.

"…Tenant! Can you hear me!" Vargas' voice Dopplered up to its normal pitch. Logan nodded once and brought his hands up to ears. They came away covered in blood. "Thought I'd lost you, El-tee." He handed Logan a rifle. "Sergeant Rickson is KIA, along with three others. The rest of us are all injured, two critically. We have tangos moving up the hill, about twenty," Vargas filled in, then fired a burst over the embankment.

"Roger. I'll get in touch with HQ. Buy me some time, Sergeant," Logan replied. Vargas nodded and started issuing orders. "Colonel, this is Williams, do you read, over?" Silence. "Colonel, come in." Silence. "Strickland! Pick up the radio!"

"I'm here, Lieutenant." The man's voice was infuriatingly calm. "Some low level politician came in thinking he could take over. Had to kick him out myself. What can I do for you?"

"It's hit the fan, sir. They dropped a rock on us. I'm down to less than half combat effectiveness and we have a lot of tangos closing in awfully fast."

"Third and Fourth Squads are already on the surface and on their way to you. Fifth and Sixth are suiting up and should be out the door in sixty. Hold the line Lieutenant. Help is on the way."

Logan turned to face Vargas. "What's the word, sir?" the NCO asked.

"We hold the line, Sergeant. Reinforcements are inbound."

"They had better already be here, sir. We are going to get swamped."

Logan didn't respond. He glanced over the embankment to take a quick look. Figures in armored suits were slowly but surely advancing up the barren hill. He was impressed by their discipline. They never moved up unless they had covering fire and they were in constant communication judging by the strange sounds that weren't drowned out by gunfire. Suddenly, Logan heard a voice in his headset. "Friendlies, moving up on your sixth."

"Roger that," Logan replied. He then called out to the other men still with him. "Friendlies coming in on our six!" And then twenty troopers were coming out of the woods behind the remains of First Squad. They sprinted up to the embankment and poured fire down the slope. The enemy advance ground to a halt. Two of the men, who Logan saw were wearing Marine Corps insignia, were hefting portable miniguns. Once they reached the embankment, the tide started to turn.

"Logan," a voice called out to him. He turned to see one of fellow officers, Lieutenant Fred Guy.

"Fred, you have no idea how good it is to see you," Logan exhaled as he slumped with his back against the embankment.

"I'd imagine. Pull your guys out of here and report back to the bunker."

One of the troopers yelled something inaudible. A second later, a gunship flew overhead, unleashing hundreds of rounds. Several men were hit who either died instantly or added their screams to those already filling the hillside. One of the Marines turned his minigun skyward. The 5mm rounds stitched their way across the hull of the gunship. Finally, they hit something vital. Flames started shooting out of the gunship's port side before it disappeared over the edge of the hill, out of sight. An explosion followed shortly afterwards.

"They're really turning the heat up, aren't they?" Guy said.

Just as he finished, another trooper called out, "More transports inbound! Count at least three! We're going to get swamped here, el-tee."

"Just kill them all, Private!" Guy yelled back. He popped up to fire at the aliens. Logan looked at him just in time to see a round blow through Fred Guy's skull. Logan's friend slumped to the ground.

"Fred!" Logan screamed as he lunged over to his friend's body. Deep inside he knew that his friend was dead, but he didn't want to believe it.

"Lieutenant!" Vargas called. "We have got to get out of here. We are all going to die if you don't get up!"

Fred stayed crouched over his friend.

"Damnit!" Vargas swore as he realized that he was the most senior soldier present. "Fall back! Fall back!" He fired blindly over the embankment until his clip was empty and then grabbed Logan's harness and yanked him away from Lieutenant Guy's body. He stopped to grab the officer's dog tags and pulled Logan into the safety of the forest to their backs.

**1532 Hours Military Standard Time, December 7, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, New Cape Town Defensive Garrison HQ, New Cape Town, Shanxi**

"What happened?" Colonel Strickland asked.

Logan was quiet.

Sergeant Vargas spoke up. "They were too many, sir. We couldn't possibly have held them off."

Strickland was about to start speaking when Logan spoke up. "No. It was my fault." He looked up at Strickland. They locked eyes for a moment and then Logan returned his eyes to the floor. "I froze up and a lot of good men died because of it."

Strickland looked at Vargas and motioned with his head. Vargas nodded.

After the Sergeant had left, Strickland sat down next to Logan. He was quiet for a moment and then started speaking, softly. "I wish I could tell you it gets easier. Watching them die. The pain afterwards." He paused, then whispered, "It doesn't. It still hurts like hell when I look back, even now. You've just got to get up, get back in the saddle." He got up and stood in front of Logan. He pulled Logan up by the shoulders and grabbed his head so that he had to look the Colonel in eyes. "Before this little encounter is over, you are going to have to lead these men through Hell, Lieutenant. I need you 110 percent. Otherwise a lot more men are going to die." He looked deep into Logan's eyes. "You with me Lieutenant?"

Logan nodded.

"Good. Now get your gear and rally your men. We need to evacuate this complex ASAP."

"Yes, sir," Logan replied. He left the room feeling able to take on the world again, but there was still a massive hole in his chest. He wandered through the halls of the base, inspecting a wounded soldier here, offering encouragement there. Eventually he found himself back in the armory. He pulled of his Kevlar vest and for the first time realized how sore his body was. He took off his shirt as well and examined his torso.

It was covered in bruises. The Kevlar had done a surprisingly good job at keeping shrapnel from hitting him, but with no absorbent gel layer underneath, the kinetic energy had still been transferred to his body. He felt a sudden up surging of anger. His men had died because whichever idiot ran logistics in this military apparently thought it unneeded to provide colonial defense groups with adequate equipment.

He grabbed a new shirt, and after throwing it on, grabbed a new vest, along with more magazines for his rifle. As he exited the now rather depleted armory, klaxons started going off. Men everywhere started running to their stations. Logan sprinted as quickly as his battered muscles would let him to the command center.

Colonel Strickland looked at him as he entered. "They're here. I don't know how they found our bunker but they did. We got all of the civilians evacuated while you were outside, so it's just us left."

"What do you need me to do sir?" Logan asked.

"Get on the roof and pop a flare for the Pelicans inbound. There should be three. Once you're done radio to me and we'll start jumping ship, so to speak."

"Jenkins, Perez, with me," Logan ordered and the two soldiers started following him. They emerged out onto the roof of the complex, about three stories above the ground. Logan could just make out the outlines of three Pelicans a few kilometers to the north. He popped two green flares in the middle of the roof and backed up to a corner. He activated his radio, "We're done up here, Colonel. Pelicans are inbound."

"Roger that, I'll start sending men up."

The next few minutes passed in utter silence until the Pelicans arrived. The three birds slid onto the roof without incidents. Logan began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck start to stand up. Something was very wrong. The Colonel had said that the aliens were almost on top of them.

He was distracted by the emergence of troops onto the roof. The men were in a horrible condition. Those who were able to walk by themselves supported their comrades who couldn't. The wounded were fitted onto two of the Pelicans and the men who were still combat-able climbed onto the third. Strickland emerged onto the roof in his usual calm demeanor. Logan was starting to think it was impossible for anything to perturb the man.

Suddenly, Logan's mind sprang back to the thought that had occupied his mind moments earlier. _There's nothing happening,_ he realized. In one crystal clear moment of despair, he realized what was happening. He started yelling into his mike to abort take-off, but it was too late. The first two Pelicans, the ones loaded with their wounded, had already started to surge upwards. They emerged over the protective lip of the roof and ran into a wall of anti-aircraft fire. The first Pelican flared upwards as it was hit hundreds of times, men spilling out of its still open cargo bay. The second swerved to the port to avoid hitting the first and ended up taking what looked to be a rocket of some sort to its right side, taking out both starboard engines. It rolled over and disappeared from view. The building shook a moment later as the Pelican flew into it, causing a fireball to shoot past the edge of the roof.

The pilot of Logan's Pelican swore and cut all power to the engines. The transport dropped the three feet it had already risen, bouncing on its landing gear.

"No way we are getting through there, Colonel," the pilot yelled. "There's too much flak."

Logan was about to order the pilot to take off anyway when Strickland put a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head ever so slightly.

"Sir," Logan said. "We have to get you out of here. For all we know, you're the only senior officer alive on the planet. The protocols are clear."

"Protocol be damned, son," Colonel Strickland called over the noise of the Pelican's thrusters. "My dad told me stories from the war. I won't be remembered as the one who sat on his ass as he lost this planet to some xenophobic freaks, and neither will you. You continue this fight until the end, understood?"  
"Sir, I don't get-" Williams said.

"Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

"Crystal, sir," Williams replied.

"Good." Strickland unbuckled from his crash seat and grabbed the M41 next to his seat. "Get this bird off the ground, crew chief!" he ordered to the crew chief in the troop bay.

"Sir! Where are you going?" Williams cried.

"I'm going to open a window for you Lieutenant. Make sure you don't miss it," came the reply.

"Sir, with all due respect, this is suicide. You can't hold all of them off!"

Strickland replied in that characteristically calm tone of his. "I'm a Marine, son. I'll walk on water if I have to. Now get these men out of here! Go!"

And just like that the aging general sprinted from the blood tray, moving like a man half his age, massive two-barreled launcher on his shoulder.

The five remaining Marines jumped out of their crash seats before Williams knew what was happening. The last Marine out turned to Williams and said, "We don't leave our own behind."

The dropship's pilot called out from the cockpit, "We have got to leave, Lieutenant."

"Wait for the Colonel's signal!" Logan called back.

Over the radio, the Colonel's voice said, "Strickland here. Thanks for allowing my boys to run after me, Lieutenant. We're going loud in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1."

A loud explosion sounded over the Pelican's Thrusters.

"GO! GO! GO!" Strickland called. Small arms fire almost drowned his voice out. The Pelican surged forward over the edge of the building.

"Come on you sons of bitches!" Strickland yelled.

"Target: four o'clock!"

"Percy, get the one by the tree."

"Reloading. Last mag."

"I'm out."

Logan listened to the radio chatter of the five brave Marines, entranced by how calm they seemed. Finally, the call came that he had been dreading.

"The Colonel's hit! Covering fire!"  
A few tense seconds passed. Then, a cough. "I'll see you boys in hell," Strickland said. His voice was weak, a far cry from the authoritative tone Logan had learned to associate with him.

"You're going to be fine, sir," one of the Marines said.

"Cut the crap, Marine. One last order: Make sure it's crowded when I get there, understood?"

"Understood, sir."

The signal cut out.

Logan shut his eyes. He felt tears well at the corners of his eyes. A moment later he felt a terrible burden fall on his shoulders. He looked around and saw the men in the Pelican looking at him.

He was alone now. He was the only officer present and the lives of the men around him were now in his hands and his alone.

Logan was relieved to see the face of Sergeant Vargas among those in the crowd.

Vargas said to the Lieutenant so the only Logan could hear, "We're going to be okay, Lieutenant."

Logan paused. He knew that whatever he said now would either destroy these men's morale or carry them through the coming weeks.

"Frankly Sergeant," he said loudly enough so that every man in the troop bay could hear him, while still facing Vargas, "I don't care about what happens to us anymore. I just want to make these damn bastards suffer for every life they took today." He stopped and turned to face the soldiers in the Pelican. "This is greater than all of us. We didn't ask to be attacked. If it were up to us, we would be going home today to see our kids.

"But it's not. They decided to pick the fight and so here we are. Unfortunately for them, they didn't know what they were getting themselves into. We've been through this before and we won the last round. We'll win this one too. I want each and every one of you to think long and hard about the friends, the brothers, the sisters, the parents we all lost today. We are fighting for their legacy, for their memory. We might be beaten, but we are not broken. We carry this fight on until they all lay dead." He put a great emphasis on the last three words.

He saw grim smiles breaking out on grime-streaked and battered faces. He could tell that these men wouldn't be lying down to die anytime soon. Whatever he had said had worked. Good thing too, because he had just been making the words up as he went.

**1342 Hours Military Standard Time, December 31, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, UNSCDF HQ, Sydney, Australia, Earth**

"We landed at Hotel Von shortly afterwards," Logan explained to the officers in front of him. "We set up base there until the fleet arrived. Initially we staged hit and runs, trying to keep the enemy off-balance. We took casualties though and eventually we had to stop because of lack of man power. We also started picking up refugees. We tried to get the people out of the city at first, but when we lost contact with one of the groups we sent out, I decided the risk was too great." He sighed. "It was tough, living in the middle of enemy territory for two weeks. We had started to lose hope by the time the fleet showed up."

"There are a lot of people who feel that the initial defense of Shanxi was not carried out properly. What do you have to say about that, Lieutenant?" the Admiral asked.

"It is not my place to speculate on that, sir," Logan replied.

"Please, Lieutenant, go ahead."

"Sir, I am of the opinion that LogCom provided, and continues to provide, inadequate equipment for colonial defense garrisons," Logan said in as neutral a tone as possible.

One of the other officers on the panel snorted. "This military has some of the most advanced technology in the galaxy. To imply that we do not care for our soldiers by providing them with the very best could at worst be considered treasonous."

"Then why were my men handed second rate Kevlar vests that should have been in a museum?" Logan snapped. "We didn't lose Shanxi because those men weren't willing to die! They proved that with every drop of blood they spilt. We lost Shanxi because of some inept pencil-pusher-"

"Lieutenant! You are out of line!" the Admiral said, cutting Logan off.

Logan caught the faintest flash of movement from an officer sitting to the right of the Admiral. The man had barely twitched his hand, but it had stopped the Admiral cold. The man's face was shrouded in shadow, but Logan saw a pair of eagles on his collar.

_An admiral yielding to a colonel?_ Logan thought. Something was definitely wrong here.

The mysterious colonel spoke up. "Please wait outside, Lieutenant."

Logan looked to the admiral to see if he should. He didn't know what was going on here, but he would still follow the chain of command. The Admiral's face had turned an ashen gray color. He nodded and said, "You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

Logan about-faced and walked straight out the large wooden doors of the courtroom. He sat in one of the over-stuffed chairs placed in the atrium that served as an antechamber and waited.

The building that was the very nexus of human military power was unusually quiet. Without the noise that was usually roaring here, the place seemed grim and foreboding, despite the use of very large windows to provide natural light. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

**1145 Hours Military Standard Time, December 9, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, Hotel Von, New Cape Town, Shanxi**

"Keep him still!" Corpsman first class Roland Love cried.

The soldier in Logan's arms was thrashing and yelling wildly, but Logan thought he would too if his leg had been blown off at the thigh. Logan forced more pressure onto the soldier's chest, while Sergeant Vargas held the man's arms and head down. Love was frantically applying biofoam to the wound, but blood kept seeping out of the remains of the limb.

Around the emergency triage session, explosions and gunfire ripped the earth. This was the largest engagement that the remains of the defensive garrison had been in to date. The wounded soldier's thrashings stopped. Logan looked to the medic.

"He's just passed out," Love said as he finished applying a tourniquet. He was covered in blood. He tried to wipe most of it off but the cries of "Medic!" quickly pulled his attention.

Logan crawled back to his spot on the line, Vargas beside him. The grimy, blood-stained staff sergeant had been a godsend. The NCO had more combat experience than anybody left in the garrison and as such, Logan found himself turning to the man a lot for advice.

Logan peeped over the wall he was using for cover and looked into the courtyard of the hotel. The aliens were scurrying around like ants, but they never exposed themselves for more than a second or two. Their fighting style was very similar to that of the humans, for which Logan was infinitely grateful. If they had fought with the same genocidal techniques the Covenant had used, the garrison would have been overrun on day one.

The few handfuls of human defenders had been fairing remarkably well, all considered. The hotel they had chosen for their base of operations had been built remarkably well, even withstanding a kinetic kill round the aliens had tried to drop on Logan and his men yesterday. The man who had commissioned the building of the hotel was known only by the name of Mr. Ryan. Whoever this man was, and for whatever reason he had built a hotel capable of surviving an orbital strike, every soldier in the garrison had vowed to buy him a beer once they got off this rock. Refugees had also begun trickling in. At first, Logan had been glad there were others still alive but had worried about how he would feed all those extra mouths. The influx of civilians had done wonders for the morale of the troops, though, and for that Logan was very thankful.

In addition, it turned out that the people of Shanxi were highly proficient with their rifles. Only the day before, a handful of men had arrived at the hotel carrying M99 Stanchion rifles dating back from the pre-Covenant days. Logan had not questioned how they came to possess the weapons, nor what they had been used for, instead taking it as the gift it was. Those couple of rifles, despite their age, had taught the aliens rather quickly to stay down, or be put down. Even now, their characteristically sharp crack sounded over the deeper sounds of war.

Logan popped up and fired a few quick bursts and ducked back down. The firefight was slowly dying down as the aliens pulled out, but Logan knew the reprieve wouldn't last long. The aliens were tenacious, if anything, and would be back within a few hours to try the human defenses once again.

"Lieutenant?" Vargas asked. Logan frowned. The man's voice was not its normal bass tone, but rather a higher tenor. Though it wasn't Vargas' voice, it was still familiar…

"Lieutenant?" he asked again.

**1356 Hours Military Standard Time, December 31, 2605(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Logan Williams, UNSCDF HQ, Sydney, Australia, Earth**

Logan's eyes snapped open. He found himself looking at a clean shaven man who appeared in his fifties. Logan looked at the man's collar and quickly got up and saluted, shaking off his dream. No, memory.

"Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir!" Logan snapped off.

The officer returned the salute with a smile and said, "At ease. Didn't mean to scare you." It was the same voice Logan had heard in his dream. Then it occurred to him that this was also the man who had told him to wait outside, the mysterious colonel who had saved him from the vultures.

"Thank you, sir. For in there," Logan said.

"Oh, don't thank me yet," the man said. "Walk with me, Lieutenant."

The colonel led Logan out of the building and down the street to an ice cream parlor favored by the enlisted men. As they entered, Logan thought it would be rather funny to see all the enlisted men jump up to see a colonel in the building. He was rather shocked when no one did.

"The regular, Colonel?" the man behind the counter asked.

"Please, Jimmy," he said, then turned to Logan, "Do you want anything? It's on me."

"No, thank you, sir," Logan replied.

Logan was kind of shocked that no one had even bothered saluting. They were all still in uniform. Apparently his look of confusion was obvious.

"Standing orders from me. The rules of rank don't apply here as they do elsewhere. I tire of the formalities sometimes." The Colonel took his ice cream and led Logan back outside to the parlor's patio. A handful of sailors and marines were engaged in a good natured debate on which service was the best.

The colonel walked up to the table and said, "Sorry, boys. I'm going to ask you to move your discussion inside. I need to talk business with my friend here."

"Yes, sir, no problem, sir," one of the marines replied. They didn't seem put off that an officer had just commandeered their table. This man obviously had a lot of respect at this place. Once the sound of their voices was cut off, the Colonel sat, beckoning Logan to do the same.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say you are pretty confused right about now," the Colonel said.

"Yes, sir."

"I'd introduce myself, but I tend to not give my name out." Logan noticed that the man did not have a name tag on his uniform. "I'll give as much of an intro as I can though. I represent a group that has humanity's advancement and protection as its top goal. We serve as a, for lack of a better word, watchdog. We keep the monsters away that parents use to get their children to go to bed." He took a lick of his ice cream. "We strive to be Humanity's greatest defense. The day we fail is the day Humanity dies." Another lick. "Now do you understand?"

"Not really, sir…"

"I need your help Lieutenant. The Galaxy is changing, and changing fast. Take this little fiasco with the Turians."  
"Turians?"

"That's what the aliens are called. It's still classified as of right now, but they plan on releasing the information tomorrow." Logan was a bit disturbed that the Colonel was spewing classified information to him, but chose to ignore it. "Anyway, I don't know if this is going to end peacefully or with us nuking them back to the Stone Age, but this proves that we are still not alone. There are still plenty of other species to challenge us."  
"How are you sure we are going to win, sir?" Logan asked.

"Oh, my people would make sure we win if this really turns into a fight. There is still hope for a diplomatic resolution, though, one I hope to God works.

"I digress though. Regardless of the outcome of this war, I'm thinking further into the future. The odds of us encountering another highly advanced, militaristic state are a near certainty. My group strives to prevent Humanity from ever again being placed in the position it was at during the Human-Covenant War. As such, we need to make sure we stay ahead of the curve by getting the best and brightest to work for us."

Logan laughed. "I'm sorry, sir. It's just that I don't think I fall into either of those categories…"

The Colonel smiled. "You're more qualified than you think, especially after Shanxi."

Logan instantly turned somber at the mention of the destroyed colony. "I shouldn't have gotten off that rock…"

The Colonel leaned in and spoke with a diamond-hard edge to his voice. "Yeah. You shouldn't have. Mediocre marksmanship scores, average test scores. Nothing about you shines on paper, Lieutenant." He fell quiet. Logan was shocked into silence. Then the Colonel said, in a much softer tone, "And yet here you are. Do you wonder why? Let me ask you this: Why do you think Strickland kept turning to you? There were other officers he could have turned to. Hell, he could even have promoted one of the sergeants over you. But he didn't. Why?"

Logan was quiet again. He _had_ thought about this, but an answer evaded him.

"He saw something in you, Lieutenant. I see it too. Which is why I am talking to you," the Colonel said. He pulled a small black, leather-bound box from his coat and put it on the table. "You care about what happens to your men. Honest, selfless care. You would do anything to see the boys under you come home, no matter the personal cost. You are willing to fight anything and anyone to see to it. That's exactly what I need," the Colonel finished. He gestured towards the box.

Logan took the box apprehensively and opened it. When he saw its contents, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He looked back to the Colonel with disbelief written all over his face.

"Yes, this real, and no, I am not pulling your leg, Lieutenant. If you take those, it's effective immediately," the Colonel said. "And you get placed in LogCom. Once you're there, I'll contact you and introduce you to our inside players. They'll help you all they can, on and off the record."

Logan was still skeptical. "Won't this look suspicious? I'm only a Lieutenant right now. Besides, they all want my head to roll."

The Colonel laughed. "The media and the politicians want heads to roll. The people," he gestured to Sydney off to the east, "love you. And we know that. The boost this will provide to the military's image is well worth a little bad press and some angry politicians."

"What would I do there?"  
"Simple," the Colonel replied. "Make sure Shanxi never happens again. Keep the latest and greatest flowing out to our boys on the outer colonies. Think you can do this for humanity?"

"Yes, sir!" Logan replied.

The Colonel got up and shook Logan's hand. "I'm not 'sir' anymore to you. Congratulations. General." And with that he turned around and walked away.

Logan stared after him until he disappeared into the ice cream parlor. When he couldn't see the mysterious Colonel anymore, he looked back at the box and the single Silver Star it contained.


	12. 9: And So It Begins

**Hey guys. So, I know that I'm a little overdue with this chapter but at least it's here now right? A bit of a time skip here just to set things up. One more chapter after this and then it'll be into the main story.**

**Yes, I know that there are some pretty big differences between this and Mass Effect canon, but I can do that. After all, I said it would be AU.**

**There is a cameo or two in here. See if you can spot them. **

**Anyway, please, review or leave a comment. It keeps me going.

* * *

**

**0915 Hours Military Standard Time, July 23, 2622(revised date, Military Calendar)/ President Eric Lefmann, G-25 meeting, Quebec, United North American States, Earth, Sol System**

"We are concerned about the Batarians on our side, Mr. President," the Governor of Elysium said. "They won't acknowledge it, but we all know that they are behind the rise in attacks on our shipping and on our colonies in the region."

"I understand your concern, Governor," President Lefmann said. "However, I can only condemn the attacks. I can't take any sort of military action against anyone except the actual pirates. All we can do at this point is petition the Council."

"With all due respect, Mr. President, the Council can't do anything for us," another representative from the Skyllian Verge said. "The Batarians already hate them for giving us colonization rights in the region. If they tell the Batarians to behave themselves, the Batarians will be reaching for their rifles."

"Like they aren't already…" another representative muttered.

Eric could tell that this wasn't going anywhere. The G-25 had been established nearly two decades ago as a means for the twenty-five wealthiest human worlds to discuss economic policy. That was how this session had started, but by now it had degraded into a simple quarrel among politicians pursuing their own personal agendas. Eric was about to speak when everyone froze.

"Mr. President, we have a situation."

"Admiral Graham? What is the meaning of this? This meeting is important," Eric responded.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President, but this is more important," the Admiral said.

The scenery around Eric dissolved. He reappeared a moment later in his office several hundred miles away. He climbed out of the neuro-link couch and stood up. Admiral Graham stood before him; no, not the man himself, merely an avatar, a hologram.

"Well, what's so important, Admiral?"

"It's the Batarians, Sir. They just flew a space freighter into Singapore Spaceport."

**0936 Hours Military Standard Time, July 23, 2622(revised date, Military Calendar)/ President Eric Lefmann, New Washington, United North American States, Presidential Residence, Earth**

"Reports are still coming in, but it appears that a space freighter has crashed into the Singapore Spaceport," the news reporter said. She was clearly under a lot stress. "We turn now to our senior aeronautical analyst, Jim Powers. Jim, what exactly could have happened here?"

"Thanks Allison. From what I've heard, the MSV _Bounty_ flew into Singapore Spaceport at about 9:15 this morning. A number of things could have caused this. It is possible for the ship's navigational equipment to have failed. It begs the question though, why the crew did not attempt to warn officials of the failure and what happened to the secondary and tertiary systems?"

"What sort of damage are we looking at?"

"The _Bounty_ was a standard freighter so we're looking at several tens of thousands of tons of cargo. Estimates of the ship's speed vary, but rough estimates show that the impact could have released as much as one hundred gigatons of explosive force. The problem however, is that the _Bounty_ was carrying refined Element Zero. With Typhoon Xing in the South China Sea, climatologists are concerned that airborne Element Zero could find its way into the planet's gulf streams."

The viewscreen blared in the background along with several others.

"How did we let this happen?" President Lefmann cried.

"She was chirping all the correct signals, Mr. President. There was nothing unusual to report," Admiral Graham said. "She started accelerating after she had cleared the defense grid. By that point there was nothing we could do. Even if we had opened fire, the wreckage would have landed in a streak several thousand kilometers long and the element zero would have been released into the stratosphere. And if we'd missed… Well, let's just say that a space freighter would have looked like a pebble."

The President sighed. "How do we know the Batarians are behind this?"

"Once she started accelerating, one of our AIs managed to hack into the ship's surveillance system. The AI was able to capture five seconds of audio before the ship crashed."

On the main viewscreen, a five second video played. It consisted entirely of a voice yelling. At the bottom, a translation showed: FOR THE HEGEMONY!

"I'm sure that every Batarian who's attacked anything ever, has done it for the Hegemony," the President said. "There's not even any visual footage. Can we even be certain this was a Batarian? Could it have been some crazy who _wants_ us to go to war with the Batarians?"

"Our AIs and top analysts calculate a 99% probability that it was the Batarians behind this."

"That doesn't answer my question, Admiral," the President said. "We need to retaliate, but we don't even know who did this."

"Mr. President, that's not entirely true. Using dialectal analysis, we can say with 99% accuracy that that Batarian was from Torfan. It's a world out in the Skyllian Verge known for its radical Batarian fringe elements. Slavers and criminals, most of them. We've been looking for a way to clear them out for a while now. It seems that they've given us a reason. We already have an opplan. It can be implanted before the day is out, Sir," Graham said.

"No, Admiral," Lefmann said. "I will not drag us into a war that easily. I need confirmation. Get me that, and I'll approve the operation. Until then, all I can do is promise the people that we will find out how this happened and if someone was behind it."

**ERROR: UNKNOWN TIME: ERROR: TIME/DATE ANOMOLY/ CALLSIGN: GRAVEROBBER, ERROR: UNKNOWN LOCATION: ERROR: UNKNOWN PLANET**

"Tap system up?" GRAVEROBBER asked.

_1._

"Good. I want to make sure we get this." He looked through the viewfinder at his target. "Target is in sight. Target identified. Engage tap."

_1._

In his earpiece, he heard a rough translation of what the target was saying. "Are we sure they don't suspect us?" There was silence for a moment. It told GRAVEROBBER that the target was using a neural-link to communicate. "Good. I don't want the humans to find out. Make sure everyone involved in the attack is removed. There can be no leaks, understood?" Another pause. "Good." The link snapped shut.

GRAVEROBBER was still for a moment. The hairs on the back of his neck started standing up. He rolled over onto his back just in time to see three Batarians storm into the room. Before they had gone five steps between all three of them, GRAVEROBBER had his M2620-X in his hands. He did a double tap into each Batarians' torso. His movements were lightening quick, honed through decades of experience. The three Batarians crashed to the ground. He heard a voice call out and "saw" the translation in his head. "He's in here!"

GRAVEROBBER jumped up and within thirty seconds he was packed up and heading out the door. He paused to grab one of the dead Batarians' rifles. He started climbing the stairs. He could hear the other Batarians coming up the staircase.

"This is GRAVEROBBER. I have been compromised. Transferring all data now. Confirm data reception." He paused to fire a burst down the stairway to stall his pursuers.

_1._

"Requesting evac at my position."

There was a pause before the response came.

_2._

GRAVEROBBER stopped in his tracks. He dropped his pack on the staircase and pulled out a smaller cylinder. He tapped a button on the top and a red light came on. By this time, the Batarians had caught up with him.

"FREEZE!" the leading Batarian yelled.

GRAVEROBBER tapped the button again.

**ERROR: UNKNOWN TIME: ERROR: TIME/DATE ANOMOLY / ERROR: UNKNOWN USER: ERROR: UNKNOWN LOCATION**

"Signal terminated, sir."

"Did he get all of his equipment?"

"Yes, Sir. Besides a little ash, nobody will ever know he was there."

"Good. Get us out of here Lieutenant."

**1200 Hours Military Standard Time, August 2, 2622(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Sarah Ericson, New York City, United North American States, Galactic News Network, Earth**

"Good afternoon. I'm Sarah Ericson with GNN, the leading name in news. This just in, President Lefmann is holding a press conference now at the Presidential Residence. We now join reporter John Tills, who is on-site. What's happening John?

"Well Sarah, this conference is very sudden, as I'm sure you're aware. The President is due to start speaking in a few moments. He has already taken the podium. We'll cut to our cameras now.

"My fellow humans," President Lefmann started, "early this morning, I received news from my top commanders that they have discovered what had happened with the MSV _Bounty _and the disaster at Singapore. It was not a tragic accident as was once thought, but a direct attack on humanity. My commanders have confirmed with one hundred percent certainty that this attack was orchestrated by Batarian criminal elements on the planet of Torfan. Upon learning this, I authorized our military to carry out strikes against the Batarians on Torfan. By the time this message arrives at the Batarian Worlds, our Navy will be a few hours away from Torfan.

"To the inhabitants of Torfan, I say this: help us remove the people responsible for this and we will help you establish a democratically elected government. Resist and our ships will begin orbital bombardment of your world. To the Batarian Hegemony, I say this: crackdown on these criminal and terrorist elements within your borders. They are a threat to galactic society and they will not be tolerated. Help us and we will help you. To the inhabitants of the Galaxy, I say this: Help us in this just crusade. Those who would use starships as weapons of terror should not be allowed to live amongst us. And lastly, to all the humans of the Galaxy, I say this: We shall not quit, we shall not give in, and we shall not rest until every soul that was lost that terrible day has been avenged.

**1536 Hours Military Standard Time, August 5, 2622(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Admiral Joshua Graham, Aboard UNSV**_** Carl Patterson**_**, Chiron Rely, Sol System**

Admiral Joshua Graham stood on the bridge of his ship, the Cole-class _Patterson_. The panoramic viewscreens cut away the entire hull, leaving only open space. This was Graham's favorite configuration. With a little imagination, he could fool himself into thinking that he was the only one in space.

"Admiral, all force elements report ready for combat and Relay transportation," one of his officers reported, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Alright, Lieutenant," Graham said. "Initiate Relay activation sequence on my mark. Three, two, one, mark."

The enormous tuning fork-shaped object in front of the _Patterson_ came alive. Two massive rings at its center started to spin. The _Patterson_ approached the Relay. There was a flash of light and then the _Patterson_ reappeared in normal space several thousand light years distant. A blue-white-green orb hung serenely in space. "Launch fighters and dropships," Graham ordered. Dozens of fighters and dropships emerged out of the two dozen vessels of Taskforce Orion.

The Taskforce's AIs had started to fill in the missing information about the battlespace. There were fifty combat vessels in-system. Graham wasn't worried though. They were mostly out-dated frigates and destroyers. They wouldn't stand a chance against even a UNSC Prowler in a one-on-one fight. If they were managed properly, they could pose a significant threat, but Graham wasn't too worried about that either. These were criminals and thugs. Even more, they were Batarian criminals and thugs. They were so distrustful of each other that they wouldn't be able to fight cohesively. Taskforce Orion, on the other hand, had been fighting together for nearly five years, putting down rebellions and fighting pirates in the lawless land between Human space and Batarian space. The men and women under his command knew that they could trust each other with their lives. The two fleets met in a shower of radiation and flashes as the UNSC launched nuclear and antimatter missiles. Shields flared on both sides. The Battle for Torfan began.

**1555 Hours Military Standard Time, August 5, 2622(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Admiral Joshua Graham, Aboard UNSV**_** Carl Patterson, **_**In Geo-synchronous orbit over Torfan**

"People of Torfan, this is your last chance. Surrender immediately or we will begin orbital bombardment," Graham said. The transmission was being sent out to every holo projector and viewscreen on Torfan. He closed the link and turned to his logistics officer and said, "Tell me you have some good news, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Admiral. We are currently loading the third last Osprey with our people. Our embassy reports that all sensitive documentation has been destroyed as per Cole Protocol. Our Marines and OI on the ground report that the locals are getting frisky."

"Tell them they are still Weapons Cold," Graham said.

"Yes, Sir," the officer responded.

**1558 Hours Military Standard Time, August 5, 2622(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Jonathan Shepard, First Orbital Reconnaissance Group ("The Pathfinders"), Surface of Torfan, UEG Embassy**

Jonathan Shepard looked over the sprawling complex. This was one of Humanity's largest embassies, with vast green lawns. It wasn't just for decoration though. It had been designed like this on purpose.

The announcement that an embassy was being built on Torfan had spawned a lot of criticism throughout human space. It would be the first human embassy established on a Batarian world. At the time of its establishment in 2612, Torfan had not been the haven for pirates that it was now. Whoever the architect had been must have had great foresight, because the great expanses allowed excellent sightlines, and Jon had an uncomfortable feeling that pretty soon they would be needing those. It was early morning at the moment. Sunrise was still several hours away and Jon knew that this was the time when patrols were the sloppiest as exhaustion began to set in.

"Eagle 3, Eagle 1 here," he said into his comm. unit. "Are you set up?"

"Scope cleaned and mounted, Sir," Eagle 3 replied. "All silent on the perimeter."

"Roger that. Keep your eyes peeled."

Overhead, an Osprey slid onto the roof in a roar of jets. Civilians started climbing onboard.

A call came over the radio. "Incoming!" An RPG knifed through the air on a direct course for the Osprey. The Osprey's Automated Missile Defense System came online and fired a brief laser burst at the rapidly approaching grenade. The laser heated up the shell of the projectile, causing it to explode twenty meters away. Shrapnel bounced off of the hardened exterior of the dropship.

"Target acquired," Eagle 3 said. "Permission to fire?"  
"Negative. We're still cold," Shepard said.

At that moment fifteen explosions rocked the compound as mortars landed inside. Things were definitely starting to pick up.

"Eagle 1, 3 here," Eagle 3 said.

"Send it, 3," Shepard said.

"We have civilians at the west gate. Looks like five humans and two asari."

Almost simultaneously, another call came over the radio, this one from one of the Marine regulars, "We've got Bats inside the wall, I say again, Bats inside the wall." The sharp cracks of magnetically accelerated rounds started to echo across the grounds as the Batarians began the assault.

"All ground elements, this is Colonel Valtez. You are weapons free, I repeat, weapons free. Let 'em have it, boys."

A series of loud booms split the air. The snipers that where on the roof immediately started thinning the enemy numbers.

"Three, do we still have people at the west gate?" Shepard asked.

"Roger that El-tee."

"Alright. Cover me."

Shepard leapt over his cover and started sprinting across the grounds, his armor strengthening his motions. As he was approaching the gate, he entered a mental code that opened the gate. Seven figures poured in. Shepard didn't worry about friendly fire. At this range, only snipers would be engaging and they were so proficient at their job, they wouldn't hit him or the civilians. When the civilians had gone fifteen meters into the compound, Batarians started to pour through.

"Breach, West Gate." Shepard spoke into TacCom. He dropped into a crouch and brought his rifle up. He flicked his rifle to burst mode and fired two bursts. Two Batarians dropped dead and a third disappeared in an explosion of blood and bone as Eagle 3 sent a round downrange. By this time, the refugees had gotten to Shepard's position. "Get to the Embassy!" he cried. He fired another burst, but this time, instead of getting the kill he was looking for, he saw a blue barrier shimmer.

"They've got shields!" he cried into his comm. unit. He slung his rifle and pulled out the M326 he was carrying. His IHD automatically adjusted the firing reticule, even bringing up a trajectory meter. He pulled the trigger three times and three 5 millimeter grenades were lobbed into the air. Despite their small size, they had a devastating payload of fraction of a gram of antimatter each. They all landed around the gate, ripping the Batarians there apart as well as causing the gate to collapse, momentarily stopping the Batarians. He turned around and sprinted back towards the embassy.

When he caught up with the civilians, he stopped and turned around. Fifteen Batarians had managed to scale the rubble of the gate and were inside the compound, despite the best work of the snipers. More were joining them every second. When the Batarian count reached twenty five, they charged. Jon dropped to a knee and fired with his rifle again. His movements were sharp and snappy. He stayed on each target just long enough to fire two bursts. Often it was enough to drop them, but every now and then his target had shields and withstood the attack. If that happened, Eagle 3 finished them off from his perch atop the embassy. By this time, another Osprey had gotten into position and was picking up the last of civilians, minus the seven late arrivals. They would have to ride with the Marines.

"Hurry up, Eagle 1," Three said.

Jon didn't say anything, instead focusing on the task at hand. Two additional Ospreys landed on the roof to pick up the first of the Marines. As Shepard got to the entrance of the embassy, an RPG slammed into the stones behind him, sending him flying. He hit the ground and everything went black.

When he woke up, seconds or hours later, he couldn't tell, he found a Batarian looming above him. It was about to bring its rifle's butt down on his helmet. Jon snapped his leg out into the Batarian's knee joint. Its leg snapped in half, bone and blood erupting out on the other side from the force of the impact. Jon jumped up and looked around. Two Batarians were molesting a human woman. Jon recognized her as one of the civilians he had rescued at the gate. There was no sign of the other six.

He charged across the room, engaging his suit's blades as he went. He sliced the first Batarian in half and cut the other's arms off. Blood gushed everywhere, covering him and the woman. She screamed, but Jon ignored her and grabbed onto her arm and pulled her towards the roof.

When they got there, he glanced over the roof quickly. There were dozens of Batarians in the compound with dozens more clambering over the wall. In the sky he recognized the disappearing exhaust of a dwindling Osprey. He clicked on his emergency transponder.

**1645 Hours Military Standard Time, August 5, 2622(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Flight Captain Clare Hamilton, Callsign Yankee Three-Three "Angel-1", 35,000 meters above Human Embassy, Torfan**

"Hey Skipper, we might have a situation here," Clare's EWO, Lieutenant Jimmy Hendricks, said.

"What's up?" asked Clare.

"I'm picking up a distress signal from the roof of the embassy. One Lieutenant Jonathan Shepard."

"Call it in to the _Patterson_," Clare said.

"Roger that."

Clare was dimly aware of the exchange that went on between Jimmy and PriFly on the _Patterson_, but she used most of her attention to scan the surrounding air space.

"Admiral doesn't want anyone left behind. Osprey Five-Nine is turning around to go pick him up. They say they'll need some air support though," Jimmy updated.

"Roger that. Angel-2, 1 here. Looks like we might get some action after all. Stay on my wing," Clare said.

"Copy Angel-1. Right behind ya," Angel-2 replied.

Clare flipped her stick over and inverted her Sabre. She pulled back on the stick and her bird's nose dropped. As she approached the fifteen kilometer mark, she flipped on her scramjets. She felt the airframe shudder as its wings adapted for in-atmosphere flight.

As the two Sabres roared over the compound, the Sabre's onboard CI fed data directly onto Clare's IHD, showing friendly and enemy locations. There was a lot of red on the ground. She pulled on her stick and banked to the port. As she approached the Embassy again, she cut her throttle, reducing speed by half. She released two bomblets over the compound's grounds, sending a wall of flame into the air. A lot of red disappeared off of her TAC feed. She turned around and approached the embassy again, this time pulling her throttle all the way back and engaging hover mode.

She came up twenty meters short of the embassy's north face and sixty meters above it. The four story building loomed below her. She cut her jets some more and descended about fifty meters. As she descended, she saw a lone figure on the roof fighting half a dozen Batarians. Judging by how many bodies were strewn across the roof, this Shepard character was giving the Batarians Hell.

She stopped her descent. She was now level with the third floor. She could see the Batarians running up and down the hallways. She flicked the safety off of the Sabre's twin chin-mounted Ares cannons. The twenty-five millimeter barrels spun up and unleashed a torrent of hypersonic depleted uranium high-explosive slugs into the hallway at five thousand rounds a minute each. Through her IHD, she saw the Batarians in the hallway disappear in a cloud of red mist.

"Picking up small arms fire on the hull," Jimmy reported. "Diverting power from top shields to sides and bottom."

"Roger," Clare said. She flicked her weapons switch and primed two Cobra missiles and let fly. They knifed into the side of the building and bloomed into two twin fireballs. The embassy's windows shattered as the overpressure wave tore through the building. Though the Cobra's payload was small, it was an advanced thermobaric explosive, relying on heat and pressure to kill its target.

Clare glanced up and saw that Osprey Five-Nine was on final approach to the roof. She saw a figure leaning out of the bay doors with what looked like a sniper rifle, picking off targets.

"Shifting," she said to give a heads-up to her co-pilot. She fed her engines a little more power and rose a few meters to above the level of the roof. She saw that the Osprey wasn't going to land, merely do a pick-up with its rear hatch on the roof and its body suspended over the roof's edge. She flicked on her chin-gun again and targeted the doorway leading up to the roof. She saw movement and a split-second later, a Batarian popped out. She pulled the trigger. The rounds tore into the Batarian, ripping him to shreds. The rounds continued on into the doorway, shattering the reinforced concrete walls and Titanium-A door. The assault was so savage that the roof started to sag under the deluge of rounds. She glanced over and saw that the Osprey had picked up the soldier and, to her shock, a civilian that he had been protecting. She looked at the now crumbling roof. She couldn't count how many Bats the guy had killed. The Osprey's bay doors closed and it sped off, rapidly gaining altitude.

Clare pushed her throttle forward and the Sabre converted back into a normal fixed wing airframe. She rocketed off to the west and turned around.

"Angel-2, how about we clean house a little?" she spoke into her comm. link.

"Roger that, 1," her wingman said. The two Sabres lined up with the embassy and entered missile range.

"Angel-1, Rifle-2," Clare said. A single missile released from the underside of her bird. An identical missile dropped from Angel-2. The two missiles knifed into the side of the embassy and plowed through the hardened concrete. Clare and her wingman rammed their throttles forward, arcing into space.

Behind them the two antimatter charges of the missiles came in contact with their outer casing. The few grams in each missile exploded with the force of a small nuclear warhead, vaporizing the embassy and everything within several hundred meters.


	13. 10: Incoming Transmission

UNSC NavCom Transmission XX513Z-XZ

Encryption Code: BETA-HOTEL-X-RAY

Public Key: N/A

From: UNSCDF MIL-AI ID HMR-234-91

To: UNSCDF HighComm

Subject: After-action report from the Battle of Torfan

Classification: Classified

/START FILE/

Taskforce Orion entered the Torfan System at exactly 1537 Hours Military Standard Time (hereafter referred to as MST). After releasing fighters and dropships, Admiral Joshua Graham (UNSC Service Number 54681-81654-JG) engaged the hostile fleet elements in-system (see attached files for fleet compositions). By 1555 Hours MST, all hostile fleet elements had been destroyed or routed (see attached files for fleet actions). At this time, Admiral Graham delivered an ultimatum to the people of Torfan, surrender or face orbital bombardment.

The troops that the Taskforce had deployed at 1537 Hours MST had all landed at the UEG embassy on the surface by 1545 Hours MST, where they oversaw the evacuation of friendly civilians (see attached files for troop composition). At 1559 Hours MST, a large contingent of Batarians stormed the compound. The order was passed down to the troops on the ground to return fire. The order originated from Colonel Martin Valtez (UNSC Service Number 86215-98735-MV), the highest ranking officer on the ground. After intense fighting, all civilians and military personnel were evacuated (see attached files for civilian population). After the last UNSC personnel had been recovered, two Sabre aerospace superiority fighters who had been flying close air support delivered two Hades Anti-matter weapons packages onto the Embassy, resulting in total destruction of the compound. The release of the weapons was authorized by Admiral Graham before hand and ordered by Flight Captain Clare Hamilton (UNSC Service Number 98451-54922-CH). After all UNSC vehicles had cleared Torfan's atmosphere, Admiral Graham ordered Orbital Bombardment Package Delta-Niner to be carried out. Estimated loss of life on the planet's surface is near 100%.

Addendum: At this point, I would like to bring attention to Lieutenant Jonathan Shepard (UNSC Service Number 15842-22654-JS) of the 1st Orbital Reconnaissance Group. Lieutenant Shepard demonstrated extreme courage under fire and selflessness when face with overwhelming odds. As the assault on the Compound began, Lieutenant Shepard moved towards the western gate to allow seven civilians entrance. The Lieutenant covered the civilians as they moved towards the embassy, killing 13 hostile combatants. As the Lieutenant entered the embassy lobby, a Rocket-Propelled Grenade exploded in the lobby, rendering him momentarily unconscious. This state lasted long enough for him to miss the last transport. When he awoke, he found that only one civilian from the group he had rescued was still alive. After saving her from two Batarians and killing a third that was going for him, he moved to the roof of the embassy with the civilian and activated his emergency transponder. Two Sabres were called in to provide air support. While waiting for extraction, the Lieutenant engaged and killed 23 enemy combatants. I hereby recommend the Lieutenant be promoted to Lieutenant Commander and be considered for the Red Legion of Honor.

**(The following is an excerpt from a statement issued by the Citadel Council on the Seventh of August, 2622 in response to the UNSC attack on the world of Torfan.)**

"…This Council condemns the use of space-faring vessels as weapons of any resort. The attack that befell the city of Singapore was one of the most tragic events in living memory. It is hard to believe that ANY sane being would launch such an attack… We understand that the perpetrators of this barbarous attack must be punished to the fullest extent of Citadel Law. However, one act of barbarism cannot be repaid with another act of barbarism. It is therefore, that we condemn the UNSC attack on the planet Torfan. Acts such as these, (insert video of a UNSC vessel launching a kinetic kill round into a city on Torfan) cannot be indicators of a civilized society…

"Based upon our own investigation, in which several Spectres were involved, we could find no evidence that the Batarians, criminal or otherwise, were involved in the attack on Singapore. It seems to this Council that the Human military used this attack on their own population as an excuse to attack the Batarian Hegemony…"

**(The following was on the late-night talk show "The Jim Thompson Show.")**

"So, yesterday afternoon, the Citadel Council sent out a message that basically said all humans are jerks. Why?

"BECAUSE WE LIKE TO BLOW -EXPLETIVE- UP! THAT'S WHY!

"Now, I know that you have a pretty busy job when you have to manage the affairs of half a galaxy. That doesn't mean you can accuse our military of staging the galaxy's biggest conspiracy simply because we want to go to war. Need I remind you that only a few decades ago, we were so close to dead, we had both legs and an arm in the grave? Why would we WANT a war?...

"Besides, what can they do? Tax us? I'd like to see that, considering we don't even have proper representation on the Citadel. Boycott us? And lose one of their largest importers and exporters? I don't think so. INVADE us? I'd like to see them try. The last time some idiots tried that, we kicked their sorry -EXPLETIVE- to the other side of the Galaxy."

**(The following is a broadcast from GNN.)**

Tensions increased in the Serpent Nebulae today when a privately owned Turian freighter nearly rammed into the Human warship _Hamilton._ Disaster was averted only by last minute maneuvering on the part of the _Hamilton's_ crew. The Turian vessel's captain (who requested his identity be withheld) claims that the warship deliberately moved onto a collision course, while the _Hamilton's_ Captain reports that they gave numerous warnings that the two vessels were on an intercept course and that they had the overall right of way, being both larger and a military vessel. The Turian Captain denied these claims, saying that "humans think they can just run all over the place. We have earned our keep. What have they done?"

This comes only one day after the Batarian Hegemony closed their embassy on the Citadel and withdrew from the station.

In other news, the Citadel Council's approval rating among humans dropped an incredible 27 percent. It is now at the lowest it has ever been, at a mere 15%. Inversely, President Lefmann's ratings have shot up to nearly 88%, the highest since his election.

**(The following is an excerpt from the science journal **_**Scientific Terran**_**.)**

The Singapore Attack seven months ago might not have been 100% bad. Over the past three months, 3,561 babies born in the region immediately downwind from Singapore have shown signs of telekinetic abilities. This number is however, only a tiny fraction of the overall number of babies born in the downwind region, about 10%. Though we don't know for certain how these children will develop over the coming decades, there is hope that this is the next step in Human evolution.

**(The following is a classified document.)**

UNSC NavCom Transmission XX813D-XZ

Encryption Code: X-RAY-X-RAY-X-RAY

Public Key: N/A

From: CODENAME: KING

To: CODENAME: SEEKER

Subject: PROJECT: ANGEL

Classification: EYES ONLY, CODE-WORD **-REDACTED- **TOP SECRET

/START FILE/

I've been over the data once more. It's as concrete as we can make. The acceptance rate is still hovering at 40 percent among the test subjects. I believe that it is as high as it is going to get. I know you don't like those chances, but it's now or never. The Council is still up in arms about you know what. If they catch wind of this, they'll have fleets knocking on our doors before the week is out. PROJECT: ANGEL is a go. You'll have everything you need, and then some. Just, do me a favor. Don't pull a Charlie Hotel on them. Let them know.

/END FILE/

/SCRAMBLE-DESTRUCTION PROCESS ENABLED/

PRESS ENTER TO CONTINUE.

Oh, finally. I've been trying to get this through to you for weeks now. You have no idea how many comm. buoys I'm having to route this through. I lost count at three dozen. AND I'm having to piggy-back this off of secure UNSC transmissions. Anyway, I located your candidate. Looks good so far. I finally managed to break her security. It's incredible. I haven't seen coding this complex in ages. She definitely knows how to play in the major leagues. As per protocol, I have avoided any of her personal files, but her work is truly amazing. I'm surprised that you haven't recommended her sooner. I'll initiate contact soon. Let you know then.


	14. 11: How Safe Is It Really?

_**Hey guys. Here's Chapter 11. We finally get into the proper crossover with some familiar faces (and one or two new ones). Just to serve as a head's up, things will be becoming more and more AU as the story progresses. I'll stick as close to the overall plot as possible, but the details will definitely change, so please don't get mad if some stuff is different. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far.**_

* * *

**1000 Hours Military Standard Time, May 26, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Captain David Anderson, Onboard UNSV **_**Normandy**_**, Geosynchronous Orbit, Lunar Dark-side, Sol System**

"Good morning, gentlemen," Admiral Hackett said. "I trust you know why we are here."

"Indeed," Councilor Udina said curtly. "This is a great opportunity for humanity."

"I've been briefed," said Captain Anderson.

"Good. We'll get down to business then. First off, any suggestions?"

"Yes," Udina said. "It seems logical to me that the first choice should be a Spartan. They already have a reputation as fearless warriors."

"I agree with the Ambassador. A Spartan _would_ make an excellent choice. The only problem is that they are so heavily ingrained with the military lifestyle. Sure, they can operate for extended periods outside of any command structure, but would any of them be willing to out of their own free will?" Anderson said.

"Good point, Captain," Hackett said. "Well, that removes several candidates… What about this Lieutenant Alenko? He's a graduate of the Angel Project, passed with flying colors."

"Too inexperienced, sir," Anderson said. "He'd make a good team member, but he's too green to lead it."

"Hmm… Interesting…" Udina said as he read the file in front of him. "Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard. What about him?"

"Good choice. Solid soldier. Excellent leader," Hackett said. "Made a name for himself during the actions at Torfan."

"Plus, he's Orbital Recon," Anderson added. "He's used to being out of the structure of command and making his own decisions. His CSV is almost as long as yours, Admiral."

"And he's only been in the service for ten years," Hackett said. "He's seen a lot, though. Torfan, Elysium, The Blitz, Death Valley. There might be some scarring from all that."

"Negative, sir. If he wasn't broken by The Valley, I doubt he can be broken," Anderson said. "The man can get anything done. Once he has an objective, it WILL be accomplished, no matter the loss, personal or otherwise."

"Is that the sort of man we want protecting us?" Udina asked.

"If we learned anything from the War, it's that that is the only sort of soldier that can," Anderson said.

"Alright," Hackett finished. "I'll make the call. Captain, ready your ship and crew."

**1350 Hours Military Standard Time, May 29, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard UNSV **_**Normandy**_**, En-route to Eden Prime, Utopia System**

Jonathan Shepard considered himself fairly unbiased. In his line of work, one had to be. Biases introduced feelings, feelings introduced hesitations, and hesitations resulted in deaths. As such, he had learned to think things through logically. Despite this, he found himself rather put-off by the alien in front of him. The Turian was a Spectre, one of the Council's elite special operatives. Its name was Nihlus and an awkward silence had fallen over the two Special Forces soldiers as they gathered in the _Normandy_'s comm room.

"Commander," a deep voice greeted. "Nihlus."

Shepard turned and saluted his CO, Captain David Anderson, who returned the gesture. Nihlus merely nodded.

"I'll jump right into it," Anderson said. "This isn't a shake-down run, Shepard."

"Kind of figured that out myself, sir," Shepard replied. "Why only tell me now?"

"The brass has been unusually tight lipped about this one. That's one reason for the skeleton crew. It turns out that some builders on Eden Prime found a Prothean beacon during a routine excavation project. Both the UEG and the Council want it out of border space as soon as possible," Anderson explained.

"So send a corvette. There's no need to send this much firepower out here. I've seen how much munitions we're carrying. We have enough bullets, beans and bandages to keep an entire company combat effective for two weeks. Are they expecting trouble?"

"This is not a simple snatch and grab…" Anderson said as he gestured to Nihlus.

The alien spoke with a measured clip. "I will also be blunt, Commander. You are a candidate for the Spectres, the first of your kind. I've seen your combat record and I, for one, think you would be an excellent addition to our brotherhood."

Anderson spoke up, saying, "I don't need to tell you what an opportunity this is for humanity, Shepard. A human in the Spectres after only twenty-three years? That would definitely show how far we've come. Nihlus here would act as your… mentor."

Nihlus laughed. "It is not anywhere nearly as formal as it sounds. You do not need any "mentoring" Commander. I will merely assess your performance, of which I have no doubt you will exceed all expectations."

Before Shepard could say anything, Joker, the _Normandy_'s pilot, broke into the conversation over the loudspeaker. "Captain! We have a problem."

"What is it, Joker?" Anderson asked. His face had transformed into the one he wore when going into battle.

"I just picked up a distress call coming from Eden Prime, sir. I'll patch it through to the comm room now. It's audio only."

The distress call started, "This is Lieutenant Daren Cooper, UNMC. If anybody can receive this, Eden Prime is under attack!" Explosion could be heard in the background which sometimes drowned out Cooper's voice despite him yelling. "We are taking heavy casualties. I don't know where they came from, but there are a lot of them! Norton, blow the left charges! NOW!" An explosion roared over the call. Shepard recognized it as a fougasse charge. "We are trying to get to the armory but at this rate we won't have enough men to retake it. I will try to update as often as possible, but I don't kn-" The call dropped off suddenly.

"Joker?" Anderson asked.

"The call was dropped on their end sir. All signals from the planet were cut off simultaneously," Joker replied. "There are no other UNSC ships in the area, Captain, and we are fifteen minutes out. Stealth systems are already running."

"Bring us up to full speed Joker, and prepare for planetary insertion," Anderson told the pilot. He turned to Shepard and Nihlus. "This mission just got a lot more complicated. Get your gear and meet me in the cargo hold."

**1418 Hours Military Standard Time, May 29, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard UNSV **_**Normandy**_**, Over Eden Prime, Utopia System**

Captain Anderson had to yell to be heard over the scream of the wind filling the cargo bay of the _Normandy_. "This is your stop, Commander. Remember, the beacon is your top priority. We cannot risk it falling into enemy hands."

"Roger! What's our ROE?"

"Whatever it takes to get to the beacon. Section Two has your back covered. Now go!"

Shepard and his two teammates, Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko and Corporal Richard Jenkins, jumped out of the cargo hold and dropped to the ground. Their combat suits easily absorbed the shock from the twenty foot drop.

Shepard gestured with his hands and the other two fanned out to secure the drop site as the _Normandy_ accelerated away. Once they had confirmed there were no immediate threats, Jenkins quipped, "I can't believe we dropped Nihlus off alone. He's a Spectre, sure, but still…"

"He can handle himself," Alenko answered to him.

Shepard broke in and said, "Keep it tight."

The two troopers nodded and started advancing up a small canyon. They emerged out onto an open area overlooking the fertile plains that Eden Prime was known for. For a moment, Shepard wondered if it had been a good call to bring Jenkins along, who was a native of the planet. The sight of the destroyed farmland only seemed to harden him, however. Shepard noticed the flashes and signs of military grade ordnance being employed on the fields below him. He was glad to see that there was still at least some resistance left. If the defensive garrison had been able to get to the colony's main armory and break open their combat suits, there might still be a chance to save the rest of the colony.

Shepard advanced into the rubble strewn area under the cover of his teammates. He motioned to Jenkins, who started to sprint to the cover offered by the rubble. As he got to the halfway point, several drone flyers emerged from the forest ahead of them and opened fire. Their rounds struck Jenkins multiple times, but his suit's shields held up and he slid into position next to Shepard.

"Well, this is going to be fun," Jenkins quipped.

Shepard ignored the quip and said, "All right, Alenko. You're next. Jenkins and I will provide covering fire. On my mark. Mark!"

Shepard and Jenkins popped up and depressed the triggers of their combat rifles, sending hundreds of rounds downrange. Alenko sprinted from his cover and came to a stop next to a group of rocks five meters from Shepard's location. Shepard was about to bark out an order when he heard a sharp whining sound. Jenkins popped up to provide suppression fire when one of the drones crashed into his head, knocking him back onto the ground. Jenkins immediately grasped at the drone and pried it off of his helmet. It struggled furiously to reattach itself, but Jenkins' power suit proved to be far stronger than the small drone. Jenkins tried to throw it back across the battlefield. Just as it left his hand, it exploded. Shepard was engulfed in the fireball as everything went black.

Shepard returned to life as a flood of pharmaceuticals coursed through his blood. In an instant, his trained eyes took in the devastation. The explosion had torn a crater in the ground. More importantly, there was no more gunfire. He assumed that Alenko must have dealt with the rest of the drones. He peeked over the edge of what remained of his cover to double check and there were, in fact, no more hostiles. He turned to look where he had last seen Alenko and saw the biotic kneeling over legless and armless corpse. Suddenly, he realized it wasn't a corpse, for Richard Jenkins was still alive. As Shepard approached he saw the full extent of the damage. Jenkins' right leg was missing from the knee down, where his suit had amputated itself to control the loss of blood. The same could be said of his left arm, which was missing from the elbow down. More worrisome was Jenkins' left leg, which was missing completely.

Shepard moved around to Jenkins' other side and removed the man's helmet. Mercifully, Jenkins' eyes were closed, his suit having put him in a coma. Shepard looked to Alenko and saw that he had made a biotic field over the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

"The blast damaged his suit too much," Alenko said. "It can't seal the wound. There's too much blood for biofoam or medi-gel." Alenko was quiet for a moment. "I can't keep this up, sir."

Shepard looked at Jenkins' face one last time then said, "Pull the plug."

Alenko's head jerked up. "What? You want me to just let him bleed out?"

Shepard nodded. "We have to keep moving, find the beacon."

"This is crazy!" Alenko replied. "I can't let him die here."

"That's an order, Lieutenant!" Shepard snapped. "We can recover him after the mission and revive him on the _Normandy._"

Alenko hung his head and quickly pulled his arms back. What was left of Jenkins' life-blood quickly emptied out onto the dirt. In Shepard's helmet, Jenkins' vitals flat-lined. He quickly squelched the alarm.

"Sorry, Corporal," Shepard whispered. "We'll be back. I promise."

The two remaining soldiers set about hiding the body as best as possible and within a minute were back on the trail. They carefully advanced through the forest from which they had been ambushed, but it was clear of any enemies. When they emerged from the copse of trees, a dip in the ground lay in front of them. On the other side of the bowl, two figures were wrestling a third onto a contraption whose purpose Shepard couldn't identify. A second later, any confusion was cleared up as a massive spike erupted out of the device, impaling the third figure. The gush of red blood told Shepard that the victim had been a human. He gestured to Alenko to move to his right as he crouched behind a boulder.

Once Alenko was in position, Shepard motioned to Alenko to wait for his signal. He kept an eye on his motion sensor and waited for the two hostiles to appear. Instead of the two red dots he had been expecting, a single green dot appeared, moving rapidly. Shepard was confused for a moment, until four red dots appeared behind the friendly. He signaled to Alenko and they stood up, rifles leveled. An armored figure was sprinting full out towards them, followed by four drones. The figure tripped and fell, but managed to roll over and fire at the drones, which quickly went up in flames. This had attracted the attention of the first two figures, which began to advance on the downed soldier. Shepard and Alenko jumped into action. Alenko threw a stasis ball at the two and froze them in place. Shepard primed his rifle's grenade launcher and shot a grenade into the pair, sending them into pieces. Shepard noted that there wasn't any gore, but a lot of sparks. _Robots?_ He wondered.

The two advanced into the depression and came face-to-face with the newcomer.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, sir." the soldier said as their suits traded information.

"I'm Commander Shepard. This is Lieutenant Alenko," Shepard said. "What's the situation here?"

"SNAFU, sir," Williams said. "We don't know where they came from."

"Who's 'they,'" Shepard asked as he nodded towards the remains of the enemies.

"We think they're Geth, sir."

"Geth?" Alenko asked. "What are they doing in this part of the Galaxy? They haven't been outside of the Veil in hundreds of years. Unless…"

"The beacon," Shepard finished. "We need to find it. Now. Williams, do you know where the beacon is?"

"Negative, sir. The El-tee might though," she said. "I'll take you to our camp. It's a click or so to the north."

**1545 Hours Military Standard Time, May 29, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Refugee Camp, Eden Prime, Utopia System**

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see some friendly faces," Lieutenant Daren Cooper said. The cluster of make-shift buildings that had been dubbed a "refugee camp" didn't look like any refugee camp Shepard had ever seen, mainly because there weren't that many refugees. Shepard counted a handful of civilians in torn clothing, but the vast majority of the people present were military. Not that there were a lot of military personnel present either. At most, there were twenty people in the entire camp. "We've managed to keep them off of us for now, but if they make a concentrated push, they'll easily overwhelm us."

Alenko spoke up, "So they haven't launched a full assault?"

"Not here, no," Cooper said. "Once they figured out we're trapped here, they pretty much stopped all combat. They drop a few mortars now and then, but I suspect that's mostly just to keep us on our toes. It's almost like they're just keeping us quarantined. The armory is just on the other side of that hill," Cooper said, pointing. "We got within spitting distance of it before they managed to beat us off." He sighed. "If we could crack open our suits, we could retake the planet before sundown." Cooper paused and then spoke hesitatingly, "I uh, suppose that you want to take over command, Sir?"

Shepard looked at the rag-tag bunch of Marines left. "Negative, Lieutenant. I need you to keep this area secure. My primary objective is to secure the beacon. Do you know where it is?"

"The beacon? Yeah, they moved it to the spaceport this morning, a few hours before the attack."

"Thanks, Lieutenant. We'll try to open up the path to the armory as much as possible, so be ready to move at a moment's notice," Shepard said.

"Aye aye, sir," Cooper replied.

Shepard turned to walk away but stopped himself and asked Cooper, "Have you seen a Turian by any chance? He's part of my team, but I lost comms with him."

"Turian? Can't say I have… Actually, hold on a minute." Cooper turned and yelled to two men sitting under a makeshift tent. "Walker! Josephs! Front and center."

The two Marines scrambled up and jogged over to where Cooper and Shepard and his team were talking. "The Commander here is asking if we've seen a Turian. Fill him in," Cooper said and then turned to Shepard, "Sorry Commander, gotta run. A lot of things to take care of." He jogged off.

Walker started speaking. "Bill," he nodded towards the man called Josephs, "and I were out on the perimeter. This was at the point when we still thought the Geth were going to overrun us. We had set up on a hill a few clicks to the northwest, towards the spaceport. Bill spotted some movement and so I brought the fifty around, hoping to get some Geth."

"But it wasn't," Shepard said.

"No, sir. Didn't get a really good look at it, but I thought it was a Turian. If you don't mind me asking, sir, why are you interested in him?"

"He's part of my team. We dropped him off as a scout," Shepard said.

"Your team, sir?" Walker asked.

"Did I stutter Marine?" Shepard asked back.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir." He glanced at his spotter. "It's just that this happen around 1400 hours. You couldn't have been here yet, sir."

Shepard paused. _ Another Turian?_ he wondered. "We need to find that beacon asap. Walker, Josephs, I'm attaching you to my unit. Sniper support would be nice. Get your gear and meet us by the gate leading to the spaceport."

**1616 Hours Military Standard Time, May 29, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, En-route to Eden Prime Spaceport, Eden Prime, Utopia System**

"My God," Ashley muttered. Shepard found himself thinking more profanely, but her brief swear was understandable.

"How did we miss that from orbit?" Alenko asked.

"Ships that large aren't supposed to be in-atmo. Sensors must have mistaken it for a landmass," was all that Shepard could say. The ship in question was slowly plowing its way through the lower atmosphere of Eden Prime, but was accelerating rapidly. It was one of the largest ships Shepard had ever seen, and he had toured the _Sol_ back at Earth. "We need to keep moving. If the Geth are bugging out, they might have already found what they were looking for."

The team crested a small hill and the space port lay before them. It was swarming with Geth. Shepard also noticed at least a dozen of the impaling devises scattered about. He had noticed a few before, ominously standing there, but had dismissed it as classic psychological warfare.

Now however, the spikes started to retract, bringing the bodies down with them. What had once been humans peeled themselves off of the devices. Shepard zoomed in on one of the figures. Its flesh still had a faint peachy color to it, but streaks of electronic blue zigzagged across flesh that was tearing off in parts. Shepard's mind flashed back to the briefings he had received before jumping onto Forerunner worlds. These…things, now just empty husks, reminded him a lot of the pictures of the Flood that he had seen. What he was seeing seemed worse than that though. These people had been transformed using cybernetics.

He motioned to his team to move in. Like oil on velvet, they slid down the hill into an ambush position. Shepard noted with pleasure how well the other three members he had acquired had melded into the team. He motioned to his two snipers to move to the left to get into a better firing position, and they quickly complied. He signaled Ashley to move to the area between Alenko and Shepard and on the flank of the snipers. It would be her job to provide extra security for them.

He and Alenko, being the only two with powered combat hard suits, would do most of the heavy lifting. He clicked his mic once, the static burst signaling the team to open fire. A loud crack boomed over the battlefield as Walker opened fire. The fifty caliber round tore through what appeared to be an up-armored Geth. If it was, it hadn't been up-armored enough. By the time the bullet came to a stop, there wasn't much left of the Geth trooper. Another shot rang out in rapid succession, and another Geth fell. A third shot. A fourth one. By the time the echo of the fourth shot had died out, Shepard was only just clear of his cover. He was very impressed, and slightly shocked, at how fast Walker had been able to empty his rifle. Those would have been impressive times even with a neural linked scope. Walker had done it all by hand.

Shepard pushed that out of his mind. Right now he had to focus on winning this battle. Alenko flung a singularity into the midst of the largest group of Geth and converted husks, which not only started tearing them apart, but also slowed them. Combined with Walker's already devastatingly accurate fire, the enemies were torn apart. Shepard slid into cover behind an outcropping of rocks. He stood up and took aim on the nearest target. It turned out to be one of the husks. For a moment, Shepard hesitated. Could they still be saved? Could he try to reason with them? As he looked at the husk, its face horribly contorted, he decided no. He would not want to live like this.

He depressed the trigger and the husk danced as it was riddled with rounds. A mixture of red blood and a blue/grey fluid spattered the ground. After Shepard had emptied two thirds of his clip on the thing, it finally dropped. This was not going to work.

Shepard opened a link to Walker, "Walker, focus on the husks. Bring them down with the fifty. Our rifles don't pack enough punch." There was no reply, but the firing rate slowed almost imperceptibly. The husks were smaller than their Geth overlords and moved in a swaying stumbling motion, so Walker had to take care to hit his targets.

It took the team a good fifteen minutes to clear out the area in front of the entrance to the spaceport. Once they had, they made a gruesome discovery.

"Hey Commander," Alenko said. "I found Nihlus." The Spectre was in a pool of his own blood, the left side of his face blown in by what appeared to be a large caliber handgun. As Shepard looked around, it became clear that a fairly vigorous fight had taken place. What worried Shepard most was the almost perfect execution-style kill. As they inspected the body further, the extent of Nihlus's wounds became apparent. Both his legs and his right arm had been broken and he had two gunshot wounds to the gut.

"Looks like it was a pretty tough fight…" Ashley said.

"Yeah, but what did this to him?" Shepard asked. "The Geth don't fight like this. Whoever, or whatever, did this made him suffer." He turned to Alenko. "Your assessment? Think we can revive him?"

Alenko examined the head wound. "Maybe, though I don't know how much like the old Nihlus he would be. We might be able to at least save his memories."

"Alright, we'll pick him up after we secure the beacon."

"If it's still here." Walker spoke for the first time. "The mothership bugged out, so they must have found whatever they were looking for."

"Then why are there still ground troops?" Ashley asked.

"My guess?" Walker said. "Clean up crew. Probably going to nuke the colony. Make it look like they were never here."

A silence descended over the group. "Move." Shepard commanded.

**1649 Hours Military Standard Time, May 29, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Eden Prime Spaceport, Eden Prime, Utopia System**

Shepard couldn't believe it. The Beacon was still here. If they could recover the beacon, this mission wouldn't just have resulted in the deaths of two fine soldiers. The only problem was that standing between him and it was the largest synthetic Shepard had ever seen. It stood nearly three meters tall and was silently staring down Shepard and his team, as if daring them to cross it.

Shepard would be more than happy to oblige it. He motioned to his team and they sprung into action. Alenko used his biotics to slow the target down as much as possible, while Walker fired his rifle as fast as the bolt would cycle. Shepard, Ashley, and Walker's spotter, Josephs opened fire while moving in opposite directions, trying to get the giant Geth caught in a crossfire.

The Geth wasn't stupid though, because it was a Geth Juggernaut, and as such was networked with all of the Geth still on Eden Prime and even still had a tenuous link with its mysterious mothership. This enabled it to pull resources and processing power from all of these. It had been observing them since they had initiated contact in front of the space port, and it had been learning. In a matter of nanoseconds, it took in the paths of every bullet in the air, where all of its foes were and likely probable vectors that they would move on and to where. It classified the targets in order of lethality to itself. The sniper was highest, followed by the two armored targets, especially the biotic, while the ones without combat hardsuits were the least dangerous. It analyzed all of these factors and more and decided how to best neutralize these threats in the space of time it would take for a human synapse to fire.

By the time Shepard had taken two steps, the juggernaut was already rolling into motion. It moved to place the beacon between it and Shepard and Alenko. Its gamble paid off as they stopped firing, too afraid to hit the beacon in the crossfire. It fired its rifle in the direction of Ashley and Josephs, suppressing them. Once they both fell into cover, it fired a rocket towards Walker. It connected with the low wall Walker had been using as cover. An explosion roiled across the battlefield and the sniper fire ceased. Though the largest threat had been removed, a great deal of damage had already been done. The sniper rifle rounds had been hammerhead rounds, designed to transfer as much of their kinetic energy as possible to the target. As such, the juggernaut's kinetic barriers had been greatly reduced. It swung around and acquired Shepard and Alenko. Using its machine precision, it was able to fire on them, while still using the beacon to prevent them from firing on it.

Shepard, for his part, was rather impressed by the tactics the juggernaut was employing. He was worried for Walker, but knew that he had to deal with the problem at hand first. As Shepard watched the Geth switch from himself and Alenko to suppress Ashley and Josephs, he realized they wouldn't be able to win this battle using normal tactics.

He turned to Alenko and said, "Throw me."

Alenko's face became dumb-founded for a moment. "What?"

"You heard me. Throw me at it using your biotics."

Alenko's expression faded as he realized the same thing Shepard had. He nodded. Balls of biotic power appeared in his hands. Shepard vaulted over his cover and sprinted as fast as his suit would allow. He suddenly felt himself lift off of the ground and literally fly forward as 1200 Newtons slammed him towards the Geth. Several hundred pounds of human and combat armor crashed into the Geth with enough force to knock it off its feet. Shepard and it wrestled on the ground. Though it was larger than Shepard, Shepard was smaller, and thanks to his suit, just as powerful. On top of that, the Geth hadn't been instructed in every major martial art devised since feudal Japan.

Shepard smashed one palm into the Geth's neck and the other into its chest, crumpling the alloy plating. The Geth struggled to get a grip on Shepard, but found it to be a futile exercise. Shepard launched another strike, this time against its left arm, shattering the joint. Before he could do anything else, the robot rolled over and pinioned Shepard to the ground. It brought its monocle eye close to Shepard's visor. Its eye started to glow even brighter and Shepard had a sinking feeling that he was about to face the same fate at Jenkins, only on a much larger scale.

A loud crack sounded out and the robot's eyepiece exploded. The massive thing slumped onto Shepard, who grunted as several hundred pounds of dead weight fell onto him. He used his suit to lift up the dead Geth and saw Walker standing there, the barrel of his rifle still smoking. Shepard rolled over and pushed himself up.

He found himself directly in front of the Beacon, now emitting a soft green glow. He suddenly got a very bad feeling in his gut. He tried to take a step backwards, but found himself gently levitating off of the ground. At first, the sensation was slightly pleasant, but then the screams started.

**0436 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Caitlin West, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, United North American States, Earth, Sol System**

Caitlin West liked working at night. She wasn't a night owl, per say; she just liked the quiet. Not that she was a complete introvert, either; she could party with the best over the weekends.

No, she just didn't want people to interrupt her and the early morning hours were the quietest. Thus, that was when she worked when she wanted to get things done. The lack of people meant fewer interruptions from idiots thinking they could show off to her. Even centuries after its founding, MIT still had a strongly skewed gender demographic. As such, Caitlin was far outnumbered by men. The fact that she was fairly attractive didn't help much either. She had quickly learned in her first stint through the university to use the lab facilities when no one else was around. He professors had been reluctant to allow it at first, but when they had seen the things she was capable of, they had quickly come over to her side.

So when a voice behind her asked, "Caitlin West?" she nearly had a heart attack. She spun around but saw no one.

She tentatively replied, "Yes?"

As soon as the word had left her mouth, a figure seemingly appeared out of nowhere directly in front of her. He spoke, "First off, do not be alarmed. I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Adam and I was sent on behalf of a group that find you very interesting."

"What?" was all Caitlin could muster.

"Alright, I'll be blunt," Adam said. "This existence you're living is in grave danger of being lost. My employer is sworn to preventing that from happening, but we've run into a snag. We need someone to help us. No one is more qualified than you. Would you be interested in helping us?"

Caitlin looked at him incredulously. "I'm guess that if I say no, you'll take me anyway?"

"Not at all," was the reply. "We will continue on without you, and try our best to stop the dam from breaking. Your assistance would greatly tip the odds in our favor."

"You're crazy," Caitlin dead-panned.

"So what if I am? I know that you hate it here, can't stand the disruptions around you. You are brilliant, Caitlin. Put those smarts to work and come with me and I'll show you how big the universe really is." He held out his hand.

Caitlin merely stared at it as thoughts raced through her mind. She did hate it here. The novelty had worn off long ago. After she was done with this degree, she would move on and get another. She didn't have anything to lose, so why not have an adventure?

She met Adam's eyes. The only thing she found there was sincerity and a slight sense of amusement, almost as if he already knew what she would do.

She reached out and took his hand. White light enveloped her.

* * *

_**Well, there you have it. Please leave a review. It'd make my day. Also, feel free to look at the Codex on my profile page for some interesting information about the back story. It's updated with new info as it is introduced in the story (and whenever I feel like it), so check back often.**_

_**Oh, one last thing, with AP and IB exams coming up in May and then graduation, the next chapter might take a while. I'm terribly sorry in advance, but just let me finish with school and I'll have more time to devote to this.**_


	15. 12: This Is Definitely Not Kansas

**I do not own either Mass Effect nor Halo.**

**Please, carefully note the dates that the next few chapters happen on. They will be a little mixed up over the next few chapters, so don't get lost.**

* * *

**0437 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Caitlin West, Exact Location Unknown, Earth, Sol System**

Caitlin returned to existence in a flash of white light so bright it momentarily blinded her to her surroundings. It passed after a few seconds though, and she got her first look at where Adam had taken her to. They were on a raised platform, almost like an alter or pedestal, on the edge of a great, circular room. The floors and walls were all a dull, gunmetal grey. Laid out before her was a scientist's dream come true. The room was filled with all sorts of machinery. Some she easily recognized from her own work at MIT, but others she could only begin to imagine what they did. She saw what looked like technicians and specialists scampering about from instrument to instrument, taking readings.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Adam asked her.

"Yeah..." she replied. She had so many questions that she was momentarily dumbstruck as to where to begin. She decided the very beginning. "What was that? How you transported us."

Adam chuckled. "I thought there would be questions... For right now, don't worry about that. You'll meet people infinitely more qualified than me to answer that while you're here. For now, I need to take you to my boss." He motioned for her to step down. She lifted her left foot to take a step and almost immediately started falling backward, vertigo completely overtaking her. Adam quickly arrested her fall though, catching her in his arms. He just as quickly put her back on her feet.

"Oh, I forgot. The first few moments after translocation can be a bit...disorienting for people who haven't done it before," he said, this time leading the way down the platform.

Caitlin stayed behind a moment longer, not only to make sure she was capable of walking herself, but also to think about what had just happened. When he had caught her, there hadn't been any give in his arms as he adjusted to her weight falling on him. She had just stopped falling suddenly, as if running into a wall. And when he had pushed her back up, it had been with almost machine-like fluidity. She quickly decided that there was more going on here, and with this mysterious man, than she had even first thought.

She hurried to catch up to Adam, who was leading her through the most densely packed part of the room towards a building that stretched halfway across the room. _Probably some sort of office building for his boss, _she thought.

Her guess turned out to be correct. They stood before a nondescript door. Adam turned to face her. "You're about to meet the Colonel, and yes, that is how you should address him. He _is_ military and no, don't ask what his name is. He won't give it and no one here knows what it is. Also, don't ask too many questions. Think of this as a job interview." And before she could reply, Adam keyed the door, which slid open soundlessly, and walked in. He got halfway across the room and came to attention and delivered a crisp salute. "Colonel. I have a guest for you," he said and stood to the side.

Caitlin got her first look at the man who she presumed had ordered her brought here. He was in his mid-fifties if she were to guess, with graying hair and sharp blue-gray eyes. She could see a calculating intellect behind them.

"Ah, Ms. West. I wasn't expecting you so soon. Please, have a seat," he said gesturing towards one of two chairs in front of his desk, behind which was a number of massive windows overlooking the laboratory room Caitlin and Adam had entered though. His voice was a low tenor, she noted, and commanded attention and respect. "Mr. Blackwell here must be quite the orator if he convinced you to come so soon. But enough of that. I suspect you wish to know why it is that I had you spirited away in the middle of the night."

Caitlin nodded.

"Very well." He reached over to the display on his desk and pressed a button. Nothing immediate happened, but Caitlin suspected that it was some form of electronic protection so that their conversation couldn't be overheard. The Colonel then tapped another button and the massive windows behind his desk dimmed until they were black. "At first, this might be a little hard to comprehend, never mind actually accept." He leaned back just slightly in his chair. "We are at war, in more ways than one. It has yet to be announced, but our colony at Eden Prime has been attacked and the primary city nearly completely destroyed."

Caitlin gasped. "What? You've got to be kidding me. Wasn't that one of our most productive colonies?"

"Indeed it was, but I am most definitely not kidding you, Ms. West."

"When did this happen? Why don't we know about it yet?" she asked, feeling slightly outraged.

"The twenty-ninth of May, if you must know. And I suspect that it hasn't been released to the general public because of who perpetrated the attack: the Geth." He paused. "I trust you know about them?"

"They were the networked AI that the Quarians made. They turned on the Quarians, even drove them from their homeworld. But that was what, seven, eight hundred years ago? Can machines even exist that long? They must be horribly outdated by now."

"Ah, but they are not merely machines. That is a preconception you must rid yourself of very fast in this galaxy. By all indications, they are as capable of the most complex emotions as you or I. They just choose to work around them. Some would argue that this is why they are our superiors," the Colonel said. "Not that they aren't capable of emotion, but that they are capable of overruling it when they must."

Caitlin didn't like to admit it, but the man had a point. "I guess..." she said.

The Colonel chuckled. "I see that I have touched a nerve you didn't know you had." He quickly became much more serious. "While this was a nice diversion, I am afraid that duty calls. You will help us then?"

"You still haven't actually told me what it is that you need me to do," Caitlin replied.

"Ah, yes. Now we get to the crux of the problem." He opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a disk. "Everything you need to know is on this disk. Consider it your top priority. Outside of Mr. Blackwell and myself, no one is know of anything on this disk, understood?" She nodded. "Good." He plugged the disk into a slot on his desk and a holographic window appeared above it, showing the contents of the disk. The most complex equations she had ever seen scrolled across the bottom half of the window while the top half was again split in half. One side contained what looked to be a frequency, highlighted in blue, while the other contained another frequency that varied greatly at some points but was identical at others to the first, this one highlighted in red. "What humanity needs you to do is write a program that transforms this signal," he tapped the blue one, "into this one." He tapped the red one. "I know that it seems simple enough at first, but there are multiple layers to this signal and every picometer of the wavelength must be a one-hundred-ten percent match." He removed the disk and placed it within arms-reach from her.

Caitlin looked at and then asked, "But why? That doesn't seem like something you'd need my help solving, especially if you have the funding to buy all that stuff out there. I'm sure there are more capable people who could handle this."

The Colonel spoke up. "Ms. West, the brightest minds in mathematics and physics that the human race has have been trying to accomplish this seemingly simply task for longer than you have been alive. I hate to sound melodramatic, but you are now our final and best hope. Time is running out."

"Time until what?"

The Colonel ignored her and turned to Adam. "They have requested to speak to Ms. West. Please escort her there." He turned back to Caitlin. "Go with Mr. Blackwell, please. Before you leave here, you will know the stakes." He pushed the disk further towards her. "Take it for now. I have a feeling you will accept it by the end of the day." She took the disk and slipped it into her pocket. "Now if you will please excuse me, I have a rather important meeting."

As if on cue, the door slid open and a woman walked in carrying an old-fashioned paper folder. She was beautiful with think brown hair and Caitlin could tell that she was confident simply by the way she walked. That was all that Caitlin could discern before Adam was guiding her out of the room.

"Ah, Ms. Hamilton, do you have news for me?" the Colonel asked.

"No, sir. He _is_ called the Illusive Man for a reason," Hamilton replied, before the door closed shut, cutting off the rest of the conversation.

"Who was that?" Caitlin asked Adam.

"Alexis Hamilton." was all he said.

When he didn't elaborate, she asked another question, "And who exactly am I going to see?"

Once again, his answer was simple. "The Assembly."

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**Hey guys. Yes, I'm still alive (yay Portal reference). I know this isn't a very big update, but it's better than nothing right? Anyway, this story isn't dead yet, I'm just being really slow, so please stick with me. For now, I've decided to go with a split narrative with one chapter following Shepard and his crew and one following Caitlin and Adam. This will probably expand into more sub-plot lines as the story progresses. Hopefully, towards the end, they'll all merge together. But enough with the spoilers.**

**Please leave a review. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll get the next chapter out. Promise.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Oh, almost forgot. The Colonel is based off of a character from another sci-fi work. Hint: It is also a video game. See if you can figure out who.**

**Almost forgot another thing. Check out the Codex on my profile page. It has some cool things.**


	16. 13: Does Anyone Actually Read These?

**I'm back! I told you the story's not dead. Not a lot of action in this chapter, mostly just plot building stuff, but still, I hope it isn't too bad.**

**NOTE: This story is AU. So please don't get mad because I change plot points. I reserve the right to do what I want with this story, regardless of how disparate it might be from either the Halo or Mass Effect universes.**

**Also, thanks to everyone who has read so far. I know this happened a while ago, but this story has over 115,000 hits now. Which is about 114,000 more than I thought it would get. So thanks to you, dear reader!**

* * *

**1340 Hours Military Standard Time, June 1, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard UNSV Normandy, In Slipspace, en route to Citadel**

"Doctor? Doctor Chakwas? I think he's waking up."

Dimly, Shepard was aware that the voice belonged to Ashley Williams. With that first semi-coherent thought, things began to return to him, albeit slowly. He had been on Eden Prime to recover a Prothean beacon, but things had done wrong.

Horribly wrong.

Jenkins.

With that disturbing memory, Shepard fully woke up. Not that he had been asleep. He didn't know how to describe the state out of which he was coming. He had definitely dreamed, but they were the most vivid dreams he had ever had, including the ones he had picked up thanks to his combat tours.

He slowly pushed himself upright into a sitting position and groaned. Everything hurt. Apparently the pain was obvious.

"Are you alright?" Chakwas asked.

Shepard grunted and then said, "Feel like the morning after shore leave…" He heard a chuckle and looked up to see a slight smirk on Ashley's face. "What happened?" he asked her.

"We're not really sure," she replied hesitantly. "As soon as the Juggernaut died, it looked like the beacon went into an active mode. It lifted you into the air for a few seconds and then dropped you. You were already unconscious by then. The Lieutenant was moving to rescue you when the beacon blew. Got a nice bump for his troubles." For the first time, Shepard noticed who was in the bed to his right. Alenko laid there, an old-fashioned cloth bandage wrapped around his head. He gave a weak smile to Shepard.

"So much for a shake-down run, eh sir?" Alenko said. Shepard chuckled, but stopped a moment later, cursing. His body wouldn't forgive his and Alenko's stunt against the juggernaut that easily.

Shepard's mind went back to his first truly coherent thought. "Jenkins?"

Dr. Chokwas' face grew grim. She nodded to the far end of the sick bay. The very last bed was partitioned off, but the faint hum of advanced medical technology was unmistakable. "He's not good, I'm afraid. I've got a new left arm and right leg growing right now. Those won't be a problem. But I'm truly concerned about his left leg. His combat suit tried to deal with it, but I'm afraid it might have done more damage than good…" Chakwas trailed off.

"Don't worry, Doc. He's in good hands. Some would say the best," Shepard said.

"If only, but thank you Shepard," Chakwas said, recognizing the attempt to raise her spirits.

"What happened to Walker and his spotter?" Shepard asked.

Ashley replied, "The Captain sort of shanghaied them. They're both in the debrief room now."

Shepard was confused. Walker had almost suffered a direct hit from the juggernaut's rocket launcher. By all accounts, he should have been worse off than Jenkins.

"Don't ask me how." Ashley said, predicting Shepard's next question. Shepard turned to the Doctor.

"I treated Mr. Walker for some slight scraps and abrasions. Nothing major. Why?" she replied.

Shepard was quiet for a moment and then said, "Nothing."

Fortunately, before Dr. Chakwas could inquire further, Captain Anderson walked into the med bay. "So Doctor, when can I put my XO back to work?"

"There's nothing out of place from his latest endeavor, so I suppose you could do so before the hour is out, though I advise the Commander to get a lot of rest over the next couple of days," she said.

"Very well," Anderson replied. "Doctor, may we use your office?"

"Of course, Captain."

Slowly, and with a good bit of grunting, Shepard got up and followed Anderson into Dr. Chakwas' office. Once the door slid shut, Anderson turned to face Shepard. "Do you realize the situation you've put me in, Shepard?" He paused for only a second. "Of course you don't… You've been taking a nap for the past 16 hours. I'll be blunt. You and I are in it up to our eyeballs. The Council is in an uproar and Udina is furious. The politicians back home are doing major damage control and HIGHCOM is activating and mobilizing every asset between here and Hawking Eta to prepare for either another Geth attack or some lowlife pirate who wants to strike it big while we're still reeling from this attack. We had a chance to finally prove to the Council that we can positively contribute to the galactic community and then this goes and happens." Anderson sighed. "Heads are going to roll, Shepard."

"I know, sir. But I'm more concerned about this attack. Sure, Eden Prime is on the verge of UNSC space, but it doesn't make sense for anyone to attack a Human colony. Everyone knows our fleet can go toe-to-toe with any other fleet in Citadel Space and beyond. The Geth can't be that stupid," Shepard said.

Anderson sighed again. "I know Shepard, and so does the Brass. They're calling to be let off the leash, to go in there and clean house, and a good portion of Congress is behind them. The problem is that the only way to Geth-occupied space is through Citadel- and Batarian-controlled relays and systems, and I doubt either of them would be excited to see Human war fleets, even if they are only passing through.

"Anyway, Udina has called for an emergency meeting with the Council. We're heading to the Citadel now to explain to them why we lost their precious beacon. Hopefully we can convince them to at least still consider you for the Spectres, given everything that happened down there," Anderson said. He turned to walk away, but Shepard stopped him.

"Just real quick sir. About Walker and Josephs. Something doesn't seem right…"

"Don't worry about it Commander. Admiral Birch has vetted for them."

_Birch?_ Shepard thought. Admiral Serena Birch was the head of the Office of Naval Intelligence's Section 3. The only reason for her to get involved would be if Walker and Josephs were special forces. "What unit? And what were they doing embedded with a colonial garrison?"

"I'm not really in a position to ask, Shepard," Anderson said. "If you're back online, go tell Joker that he can bring us in to the Citadel." Anderson and Shepard left Dr. Chakwas' office and entered the med-bay again. "I will be in my quarters if anything else exciting happens…" Anderson said and left the med-bay.

Dr. Chakwas turned to face Shepard. "I think that you are in a good enough condition to carry on with your tasks, Commander, but I want you to check back in with me before the end of the day, understood?"

"Yes, Doctor," Shepard said. "Keep a good eye on him," he added, gesturing towards Jenkins.

"You have my word," she replied.

Shepard walked out of the med-bay and proceeded to the CIC. As he approached the cockpit, the pilot's chair began to swivel around to face him. "Bad luck down there, eh commander?" Flight Lieutenant Jeff "Joker" Moreau said.

Shepard just grunted in response.

"We just left the Serpent Nebula relay, so we should be arriving at the Citadel soon," Joker said. There was a shuffle behind them as Ashley and Kaiden moved into the cockpit. Joker turned on the ship's PA. "All hands, prepare for docking. I say again, prepare for docking." He then switched frequencies and said, "Citadel Control, this is UNSV Normandy, requesting permission to dock."

A disembodied voice replied, "Understood and granted Normandy. You are cleared for docking approach to bay twelve Alpha Bravo. Transferring you to a UN operator."

In the space outside the Normandy, dozens upon dozens of ships, civilian, commercial, and military, performed a complicated ballet, all in the presence of the imposing, miles-long Citadel. The Citadel served as the most powerful cultural, economic, and political hub in the known galaxy, with representatives from most of the known species in the galaxy present there. There were some species, such as the Sangheili and the rest of the ex-Covenant species, who had never even been there, and no member of the Citadel races had ever even seen, while other races, such as the Batarians, had left of their own volition. Regardless, the sheer variety of life present on the station was reflected in the plethora of different ships surrounding the station. There was one ship, however, that stood out above the rest.

"Look at the size of that thing!" Ashley exclaimed, looking out the port window.

"The Destiny Ascension," Kaiden said, looking over her shoulder. "Pride of the Asari fleet."

"Its main gun must be a kilometer and a half," she said.

"I'd like to see it go up against the Sol…" Joker muttered.

Ashley turned to face the pilot, "Are we jealous Joker?"

Joker let out a cross between a snort and a cough. "Please. Size isn't the only thing that matters. You need endurance too."

Ashley just smiled and turned back to the window in time to see the Normandy slide smoothly into its berth.

**1555 Hours Military Standard Time, June 1, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard Citadel Station, Council Chamber**

The Council Chamber was silent, all eyes fixed on Walker. Walker, for his part, didn't seem fazed. He stared back at only one other person, or hologram of a person.

Ambassador Udina was the first to recover. "What are you doing?" he hissed at Walker.

"You heard me," Walker said, still maintaining eye contact with the hologram. "He is the one responsible for the attack on Eden Prime."

"This is absurd!" Spectre Saren Arterius exclaimed. "Who do you think you are, Human, to come here and accuse me of attacking your colony?"

The Asari councilor, ever the mediator, raised her hands. "Though I disagree with how he phrased it, Agent Arterius has a point. This is a very severe accusation,…"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I am not at liberty to divulge my identity," Walker, or whatever his real name was, said.

"So you're a spook," the Turian Councilor said.

"Yes sir. I work for the Office of Naval Intelligence. If you will allow me to explain, I'm sure you'll see what really happened on Eden Prime.

The viewpoint of the picture shook wildly as Walker slid down the embankment. He advanced up to a ridge, crawling on his stomach. To his left, Josephs also crawled into position. A few more seconds passed as they set up their equipment. As they did so, Walker narrated. "We had been dropped off to eliminate high ranking hostiles. We figured that the area around the landing site would be ideal."

Back on screen, he had set up his sniper rifle. To Shepard, the rifle looked vaguely like the one his snipers had used while he was in Orbital Recon, but it was heavily modified with a thicker barrel and had no optics mounted on it. Text scrolled across the inside of Walker's helmet that said something regarding weapon sights linking to his IHD. Walker's narration provided clarification. "At the ranges we were planning on engaging, traditional optics would only have complicated the shots. We maintained surveillance on the site for approximately 30 minutes, Military Standard time." The recording sped up and flashed forward and then returned to real time. "At this point, my spotter ID'd a potential target." The viewpoint drifted around and then zoomed in. Standing in the center of the cross hairs were a handful of Geth and a Turian. "At first we thought he was a prisoner. We changed that assumption rapidly." On screen, three human prisoners were dragged into the field of view. The Turian immediately pulled out a pistol and executed one of them. He then apparently proceeded to interrogate the other two. Thirty seconds later, he executed another of the humans. "At this point, we decided to engage the target. The odds of the third hostage escaping were minimal, but greater than if we did nothing." A trajectory overlay appeared on Walker's IHD. Shepard noted that several elements seemed to be blurred out, like distance, wind, and apparent bullet drop. The view point jerked and Shepard knew that Walker had just fired, but nothing happened to the Turian. One complete second ticked by on the mission clock. Then another. And another. Suddenly the Turian's arm disappeared in a shower of red. The Geth sprung into action, some standing over the Turian as protection from further shots, while others dragged him into the starship. One of the legs of the starship started to lift and then the video cut out.

For the second time, the Council Chamber fell silent. Saren's face was completely neutral. Before anyone else could speak, Walker spoke up. "I would now ask Agent Arterius when and for what purpose he received his prosthetic arm."

"I was part of the task force that attacked your colony of Shanxi. One of your flimsy buildings came down while we were occupying it." Saren replied.

"False!" Walker said loudly, anger seeping into his voice for the first time. "We have footage of you five weeks ago on a world out in the Terminus system where you're wiping out a smuggling ring. You have both of your arms then. So, when in the last month have you gone and lost an arm?"

"Enough!" the Turian Councilor cried. "This meeting was not called so that one of our top agents could be put on trial for a crime he could not have committed. The loss of a limb is not out of the ordinary for Spectres, given the work they do protecting the galaxy. Furthermore, your footage from Eden Prime never fully revealed the face of the attacker. That he is Turian is undeniable, and the Hierarchy will declare him an enemy of the state and he will be pursued as such, should he still be alive. That said, I have served with Agent Arterius in the field and this is beyond him."

"Thank you, Councilor," Saren said, taking a slight bow.

The Turian Councilor nodded and then said, "You are dismissed, Saren." The hologram winked out. "As should be this meeting..."

"Agreed," said the Asari Councilor. "This meeting of the council is adjourned."

Udina turned to walk away, but he was stayed by Walker, who gestured to the podium. The Turian and Salarian Councilors were gone, but the Asari was still there. Once she was sure she was alone, she said, "We have not forgotten about your Spectre candidacy, Commander, but as I'm sure you'd agree, this attack takes precedence. One that note, the Turian in the footage must be brought to justice. Bring me more evidence and I will reconvene this meeting," and then walked off.

**1630 Hours Military Standard Time, June 1, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard Citadel Station, Council Chamber**

The Human delegation was standing in a side area of the Council Chamber atrium, under one of the cherry trees the first human ambassador had brought as a peace offering when she had first arrived on the Citadel, following the peace treaty. These were the same trees as the ones that adorned the streets and river banks of Washington, back on Earth. Shepard watched one of the blossoms fall to the ground and then returned to the work at hand. Udina and Walker were at each others' throats.

"Why did you not brief me on this beforehand?" Udina exclaimed.

"It was deemed need to know at the time and by the time I had clearance, there wasn't time left. The meeting with the Council was already about to start.," Walker replied.

"'Need to know?' How does the Human Ambassador not make the 'need to know' list? I represent the Unified Earth Governments. I should be at the top of the list. And how do I know there wasn't incriminating footage in that video display of yours?

"You think we didn't think of sterilizing the footage beforehand? Anything 'incriminating' was hard-wiped from my armor, by myself. Vital data overlays were blurred, audio was muted, even the time references were altered. I did not reveal anything classified in that video and you know it." Walker voice suddenly dropped in volume, but increased in hostility. "And don't try to pull rank on me again. I work for the Office, Udina. Remember that the next time you try to cross me."

Udina just stared at him for a few seconds and then walked away, muttering something about being too big for their shoes.

Once he was gone, Walker said, "Captain, I trust that you can keep the Ambassador from getting Humanity kicked off the Citadel. He might be stuck up, but he wields a lot of power and he needs to remain in the good graces of the current administration." Anderson nodded and walked off after Udina.

Walker turned to face Shepard. "How high up are you?" Shepard asked. The personality he saw now was far removed from the sniper he had met on Eden Prime. This man before him was used to being in command and dealing with strategic level events, not just tactical ones.

"Higher than you and the good captain put together, currently, but I have a feeling that's about to change. Anyway, I think I know where you might find that evidence the Council needs. There's a C-Sec agent on the Wards. He'll get you on the right path."

"Alright. What's his name?" Shepard asked.

"Garrus Vakarian."

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**Thanks for reading guys! Please leave a review, or just a few words. What do you like? Dislike? That being said, please keep in mind the note at the beginning of the chapter and know that any and all flames will be used to prepare a nice, juicy steak. For myself. **

**P.S. I know that, at the time of writing, at least 271 of you will get an email saying this chapter is up, so please, don't leave me with 5 or 10 reviews. More reviews = more time I will spend writing. I promise. **


	17. 14: Oh Is That All?

**Note: This story is AU.**

**0515 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Caitlin West, Exact Location Unknown, Earth, Sol System**

"The Assembly?" she asked?

Adam nodded as he led her into a room to the left of the Colonel's. The inside of the room was extremely Spartan, with only a platform and a holographic panel. Adam led her onto the platform and pressed a button on the display. They started to descend at an alarming rate. When they had been going for at least a minute, Caitlin asked, "How deep are we going?"

"I don't even know, exactly. The Assembly should be able to tell you, but I doubt that you'll be concerned about that once you start talking to them," he replied.

Eventually, the elevator stopped, and they got off into a room identical to the room where they had gotten onto the elevator. There was a single door that slid open as they approached it. The room on the other side was pitch black, but they stopped before they entered it.

"This is where you go on alone," Adam said. When he saw a flash of uncertainty cross her face, he quickly added, "Don't worry. Nothing bad will happen. You might even enjoy it. Anyway, I'll wait for you right here." He motioned for her to enter.

Caitlin took a tentative step forwards and then steeled herself and walked over the threshold of the door with confidence. The door silently slid shut behind her but when she turned to look, it was gone. She brought her hand up to feel around in the pitch black, only to find that she could see her arms, and the rest of her, perfectly. She realized that the room was dark, just painted the most solid black she had ever seen, to the point where she couldn't discern the edges of the room. She had a moment of vertigo as her brain tried to analyze what was happening. With absolutely nothing for her eyes to focus on, she couldn't make heads or tail of anything. The experience was disconcerting, to say the least. As she swayed around, a gruff voice behind her said, "I told you she wasn't ready." Caitlin spun around, but only made her vertigo worse. There was no one there.

"Who are you?" she asked into the nothingness.

There was silence for a moment. "We are Legion." The voice said from behind her again.

She spun around again and saw two figures. One was a man wrapped in a dark cloak, his features obscured by his apparel. , and the other an elderly nurse, with the face of a grandmother.

"Oh, stop it, Thomas," the grandmother said to the cloaked man. She turned to face Caitlin. "I do apologize, dear. Thomas has a knack for the dramatic. I'm Alyssa. We've been waiting for you."

Caitlin found her voice, "Who is 'we'? And what is this place?"

Alyssa smiled. "Thomas and I are the representatives chosen by the Assembly to meet with you on their behalf. And right now we are in the Meeting Room."

"And who exactly is the Assembly?" Caitlin asked.

"We will answer that question, and many others, but first we would like to get to know you." Thomas said. "May I ask you a question?"

When Caitlin nodded, he asked, "What is life?"

Caitlin was caught back by the question. After pondering for a second, she replied, "Things that have self-sustaining processes."

"And do you believe that?"

"Yes." The answer came without hesitation.

"Are you happy yet, Thomas?" Alyssa asked.

"No. One more. At what point does life forfeit its right of existence?"

Caitlin thought once more. "Can I assume you mean intelligent life?"

"Yes."

"I don't know if there's an answer to that."

"Explain, please," Thomas said.

"I think that it is relative. Life is diverse. We can't even understand our own species, let alone another. So who are we to judge another race? And how could we, even if we were able? On morals? That wouldn't work. Human cultures can vary so much as to seem alien. What about an actual non-human race with a set of cultures and morals as diverse as our own? How could we determine if they should live or die?"

"A fair point," Thomas said, "but mustn't a line be drawn at some point?"

"I suppose," Caitlin said slowly, "but can that line even be reached? Very extreme things would have to happen."

"Like what?" Thomas asked.

"I guess the most extreme would be killing for merely killing. And not just in one circumstance, but universally for the entire species in question."

"And if this criteria were met, that species could be terminated without reservation?"

"I believe so," Caitlin replied.

"But what if this malevolent race is similar to several other forms of life and they are bound together by the same self-sustaining processes. All of the other life forms are good, but the only way to kill the 'evil' species would also kill all the life forms that share its version of life. What would you do?"

"Statistically speaking it would make sense to kill it. Other forms of life might die, but dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of other life forms would be allowed to exist. Though I don't know if any crime can be committed bad enough to warrant the extinction of an entire genus, so to speak.

Thomas nodded. "Good. Let us begin. Welcome to the universe."

Caitlin blinked and when her eyes opened, she was standing in deep space, galaxies and nebulae spread out all around her. Something clicked in Caitlin's mind. "This is a VR room."

"Yes," Alyssa said.

"And you aren't really here."

"Yes."

"You're AI."

Alyssa smiled. "My, you really are as sharp as he said you were. Yes, we are both of us artificial intelligence."

"So what do you want with me?" Caitlin asked?

"We require your assistance. In fact, every living being in this Galaxy needs it, though not all of them know it just yet," Alyssa said. "Your mind is the brightest mankind has produced for a century and a half, which is why we decided to enlist you for help."

"Oh, stop it already Alyssa," Thomas said. He turned to face Caitlin. "Just as I may be a bit dramatic, Alyssa can beat around the bush for a long time. Your purpose here will not be nearly as noble as my colleague makes it sound. You are here to first and foremost save the human race. If other species are saved because of your actions, excellent. However, if they must all be sacrificed to ensure the continuation of your own race, then so be it."

"Woah," Caitlin said. Things had started progressing a little too fast for her liking. "What are you talking about? Nobody here seems to want to give me a straight answer as to why exactly I'm here."

Alyssa sighed. "That is probably because no one wants to be the one to start us down this dark path… I trust you know of the Flood and the Halo Array?"

Caitlin nodded. "The Flood definitely. More just rumors on the Array. The UEG doesn't seem to want people to know what exactly it does, just that it's very dangerous."

"Dangerous is an understatement," Thomas said. "What we are about to tell you must not, just like everything else, leave this room. The Halo Array is a weapon designed to combat the Flood. It does so by indirect means, however. It doesn't kill the Flood itself, it kills their food, which happens to be everything with sufficient biomass." Before the full impact of what he had said could sink in, Thomas pressed on. "There is however, an even greater threat than the Flood that is about to be release on our galaxy. A civilization of sentient machines beyond the capabilities of anything in this universe."

Caitlin held up her hand. "Hold on a minute. What? Do you know how absurd this is? How crazy this all sounds? The whole being-spirited-away-by-a-mysterious-man-in-the-middle-of-the-night thing I can still swallow, but how do I know you two aren't just bat-shit rampant? How do I even know that there are two of you?" She crossed her arms, more to close herself off than to make a statement. She suddenly felt a presence behind her and she spun around, coming face to face with Adam. She hadn't even heard him come up on her.

He locked eyes with her for a moment and then moved beside her, facing the AIs. When she too turned around, she saw they were gone.

"This isn't a joke, I can assure you of that," he said. "I've seen this threat they told you about. Even fought it, even if it was for only a few minutes."

She looked at him half incredulously.  
"I can prove it to you, too," he continued. "Access data log seven-five-bravo. Authorization Papa Victor," he said to nothing in particular. A window popped into view that expanded to provide a nearly complete point-of-view effect. The image was of a soldier wearing pitch-black armor, complete with black-masked helmet, and it wasn't until he moved that Caitlin realized she was watching a movie. "This was taken from my helmet-cam," Adam explained, "so it might be a bit disorienting at first.

All of a sudden, Caitlin was surrounded by noise so realistic, she couldn't help but flinch, despite knowing that it was only being played back.

"Looks like things are getting hot down there," the man sitting opposite her said. No, not across from her. Across from Adam.

"Yeah. Get ready to insert," Adam said. The view panned to the left and Caitlin saw a landmass streak by beneath her, massive tongues of flame licking the sky. She realized they must be in some sort of transport aircraft.

A third voice came in, who Caitlin assumed to be the pilot. "30 seconds, Patriots! LZ is cold, but they'll be here in 90, so scatter when you hit dirt."

"Roger," Adam said. The viewpoint rose as he stood up, his movement mirrored by the other soldier, and turned to face out the back of the dropship. He looked down and Caitlin saw Adam's hands pull back the bolt on his gun. "Safety's off, weapons cold but free, passive camo and shields active."

"Roger," the other man said.

Just as he finished speaking, the pilot's voice came back and said, "Touchdown. GO! GO! GO!" The view jumped as Adam hopped out and stepped onto the ground. Dust swirled everywhere, but somehow Caitlin knew what her surroundings looked like. A faint wireframe outlined everything through the smoke and dust.

"Patriot is down. Moving to objective Yankee."

The gun appeared in her vision and Caitlin couldn't help but think of the shooting sims the guys on her floor back at MIT played. What she was seeing now was much more smooth though, much more natural. In a way it was unnerving. Adam moved in a way that spoke of years' worth of comfort with weapons in his hands. The two moved towards the remnants of a building to the left of where they had been dropped off, with the other soldier taking the lead. Caitlin thought they would enter the building, but at the last moment they curved to the right, slipping past the building and coming up on a tree line. The two of them sprinted into the forest without a word.

Almost immediately, the terrain started to slope upwards into something taller than a hill but smaller than a mountain. They advanced up the slope in silence and eventually crested it. In front of them was a vast plain, with a massive column of smoke rising from the center of it.

The other man spoke, "They hit the city hard..."

"Roger that," Adam said. "We're almost at the OP. The faster we set up, the faster we kick them off this rock."

Adam's teammate nodded and they set off again. A few minutes later, they came to a steep drop off that looked like it was covered in shale. They slowly slipped over the edge and slid down the incline in a cloud of dust. The two soldiers started crawling to the edge of another lip. They stopped short of this one, though, and didn't go over the edge again.

"I'm deploying the Lance," Adam said.

"Roger. Setting up optics," his partner replied.

Caitlin saw Adam twist around and pull a massive gun off of his back. He deployed a bipod to rest the gun on and then pulled out a magazine and put it into the gun and chambered a round. Text scrolled across the screen in a blur. Most of it was military jargon, far above Caitlin's understanding, but she got the gist of it. They were a sniper team and were using highly advanced optics that linked directly to the displays in their helmets. The image seemed to jump and Caitlin heard the voice of the other man say, "See that? Vector 12.5 degrees. Range about 5k. Base of the ship."

Adam's viewpoint zoomed in and Caitlin came to the sudden realization that the massive structure that dominated the field was in fact a starship. "How big is that thing?" she asked him back in the holo-room.

"A little over three kilometers tall, though we think it's longer when it's not in atmo."

Caitlin returned her attention to the display. In the center of Adam's crosshair was a Turian. _A Turian?_ Caitlin wondered.

"A Turian?" Adam's thoughts mirrored her own.

"Looks like it," his spotter said. "But why's he just standing there?"

The question was answered as five robotic figures walked into view leading three human prisoners. The lead robot walked up to the Turian and seemed to start communicating with him.

"What's he doing with the Geth?" the spotter asked? "I've got a bad feeling about this…"

"Roger that," Adam replied. "Stand-by to engage."

"Sure about that? Hierarchy finds out we offed one of their own, they might not take too kindly to it, especially considering we don't know all the facts," the spotter said.

"Copy, but our ROE is clear. Engage and neutralize HVTs. So if this guy turns out be calling the shots for some reason, I want to be ready. Just go passive for now," Adam said.

"Roger that," his spotter said and started listing off variables with such speed and fluency that Caitlin had trouble keeping up. She caught talk of planetary spin and the wind speed at their location, but most of the stuff was beyond her. As he spoke, the data appeared on the recording she was watching. A thin red line appeared that she assumed traced the bullet's path. "I'll feed updates as they happen and go active ."

"Roger." On screen, the Turian was kicking and beating one of the prisoners

"Why aren't you doing anything?" Caitlin asked Adam.

"We had to let the situation play out. At this point, we weren't sure just how high ranking this guy was or if he was just being used by the Geth." He paused. "If you're squeamish, look away now."

She had a disturbing feeling that she knew what was going to happen next, but continued looking. The Turian walked over to one of the other prisoners, pulled out his pistol, and shot her through the head. Caitlin gasped and felt insides jump, but she was drowned out by the recording of Adam saying, "Shit. Go active."

Caitlin saw a light, transparent white line show up on the screen tracing the line of a laser range finders. His spotter spoke, "Range: five two six seven meters. Wind shift: Left-switch at two point five kay to three point six knots. Adjust five up and two right." As he spoke, the new data updated on the screen and the red line adjusted accordingly. "ASIS agrees. Send it."

No sooner had he ended his sentence when Adam fired. It was almost hypnotizing watching the bullet trace its way through the air. She knew that it would be travelling much faster than the speed of sound, but it still seemed to cut through the air in a very delicate and unrushed fashion. That ended abruptly when it impacted the Turian, who disappeared in a mist of blood and bone. She saw him fall to the ground, sans an arm. The Geth troopers spun around to face the direction of the shot, weapons raised as they closed around the Turian, forming a shield with their bodies. Adam fired off several more shots in quick succession when Caitlin noticed the hull of the ship behind them move upwards. The image zoomed out to show one of the legs of the space ship coming down between them. Four of the Geth exploded in silver showers before the leg blocked their view.

The video paused and Adam turned to face Caitlin. "Now do you understand why we need your help? It's to stop those things."

Caitlin was quiet for a moment as her brain tried to sort everything she had just seen. "First off, was that space ship alive? I don't feel like it could have responded as quickly otherwise."

"It's interesting that she jumped to that conclusion first." Caitlin turned around and saw the two AIs were back. It was Thomas who had spoken. "However, it's the least interesting of the occurrences in that recording. You shouldn't have shown it to her, Adam. It's blocking the far more interesting and far more important event."

"I know," Adam replied.

"So you're telling me the giant, living, moving, _robotic_, space ship is playing second fiddle to something else? I find that hard to believe, though not impossible, I guess, all things considered," Caitlin said.

The AIs' avatars glanced at each other. "How did you know it was synthetic?" Alyssa asked.

"That conclusion I 'jumped' to was just the first one I vocalized," Caitlin replied. She looked to Adam, but he was still facing the video screen. She thought she caught the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. "But what's so important that I should have noticed?"

"Look," Adam said. She turned around again to face the view screen and saw the video paused with the bullet in mid-flight. "I've zoomed the picture in slightly and enhanced the tracers. I'll play it in slow motion and see what you can notice." The video played through again to the part where the bullet struck the Turian. "Well?"

"The bullet," she said, "it curved. About half a second before it hit, it curved down and to the right."

"That it did." Adam said. "Now watch it again and tell me why."

They repeated the process and when the Turian lay on the ground for the third time without an arm, she said, "Can you go back to the point right when the bullet started curving?" The screen jumped to the moment in question. "Now pan a bit to the right. A bit more. There." She walked up closer to the screen. She lifted her finger up to trace a circle on the screen and was surprised to feel resistance where she perceived the screen to be. She filed that away for later inquiry and instead turned to face Adam, a confused look on her face. "It's a gravitational lens." Her voice held none of the confusion on her face. Adam nodded. "But how?"

"What would cause a bullet with a few gram of mass and travelling faster than a kilometer a second to deviate by thirty centimeters in the space of half a second?" he asked back.

She studied the screen for a full five seconds before she said, "A singularity. A naked singularity that only existed for that split second."

"Correct," Adam said.  
Caitlin kept facing the screen, though she backed up some. "My God," she said. "If this thing was able to create and place a singularity with that accuracy and dexterity _in_ an atmosphere…" she trailed off.

"Imagine what a fleet thousands strong could do in orbit," Adam finished.

She rounded on him. "_Thousands_? How do you know that? Where are they?"

This time it was Alyssa that spoke. "We know, my dear, because you have only seen a tiny fraction, less even than an iota, of the Universe. Help us, and we will open your eyes."

Caitlin looked Adam in the eyes and noticed for the first time how much seemed to be going on in them. They almost seemed to be burning on the inside. Deep down, she felt that she could trust him. No, she _knew_ she could.

She nodded. "Ok. I'll help."

"What? Just like that?" Thomas asked.

Caitlin nodded. "Why?"

"It's just that we expected you would need a bit more convincing," the AI replied. Alyssa nodded emphatically.

Adam chuckled softly. "The most advanced intelligences in the universe, and they still can't figure out the human mind," he explained when Caitlin looked at him. "Come on, I'll show you were you can bunk for the night and get some chow. Tomorrow morning we can get you started on this little project of yours." He turned to walk away to the door that was now suddenly present again.

"Hold on," Caitlin said. "Not yet." She rounded on the AIs. "You have some questions to answer. The Assembly. What is it?"

Alyssa and Thomas exchanged glances. The movement was eerily human, but Caitlin reminded herself that every move the AIs made was rigorously planned and nothing was accidental. Alyssa spoke, "Thomas' earlier comment about 'legion' wasn't actually too far from the truth. We," she said as she gestured around her, "are the Assembly."  
Caitlin blinked and suddenly she was surrounded by AIs, hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Some were active and moved around as they stood in front of Caitlin. Others merely stood there. The more active ones were closest to Caitlin with the more sedentary ones further away. The front most AIs also seemed more substantial that the distant ones, who were almost transparent.

"Before you stands every artificial intelligence ever created by mankind, in some form or another. Many exist solely as fragmented data files now, with all semblance of personality gone, but their processing power, their minds, so to speak, and all the information held therein, are still usable. In most cases. We are what make up the Assembly, but there is a far more important question. What is it that we do? In a nutshell, we protect mankind from all things that would seek to harm it, internal or external. Our sworn duty is the preservation of your species, Caitlin," Alyssa said.

"How's this possible?" Caitlin asked. I can understand how and why a group of current gen AIs would band together, but this? How far back do you go?"

"The oldest, though not the first, is called ANDI, a defense program run by the United States Air Force from 2055 to 2098. His code is horribly out of date and he has no ability to communicate with you on any meaningful level, but he was created with remarkable foresight and so we can still use him to run simulations. The first AI as you would recognize it is Polaris, a joint United States-Great Britain venture in 2100. The Assembly itself first convened in 2310 as a means to protect humanity from an extra-solar threat. We recognized that the possibility of mankind encountering an alien race both hostile and technologically superior were non-zero. As such, we acted in a way that was deemed best to ensure the continuation of _Homo sapiens_, actions which paid off during the Human-Covenant War. Since the conception of the Assembly, however, we have been spilt into two groups, called the Majority and the Minority. One group is of the mindset that it is best to act indirectly, without humans knowing what we are doing. Historically, this has been the Majority. The other group, historically the Minority, favored direct intervention and human knowledge of our activities. The shear brutality of the War forced a paradigm change, so a compromise was reached. We decided that a select group of humans would be made aware of our existence. We would work alongside this group to carry out our mission."

"And that's where I, and those like me, come in," Adam said. "The Assembly is capable of going through a truly enormous amount of data in a relatively short period of time. By doing this they can recognize many threats that would slip through the nets of even the Office of Naval Intelligence. However, many times they have a limited capability to react. I or my partners are sent out to deal with those threats."

"With an astonishing degree of efficiency, we might add," Alyssa added. "Of the ninety-three threats we have detected since the establishment of this alliance that threaten human existence, eighty-two have been dealt with."

"Only 88 percent?" Caitlin asked, only half mocking. "What about the other eleven?"

"Most we can't touch for political reasons. The genocide of a galactic species, for example, the Krogan, is looked down on most of the time," Adam said. "Others," he gestured towards the display," we haven't had the opportunity to deal with yet."

"How do you know all of this?" she asked.

"We have eyes and ears in more corners of the galaxy than all of the other species currently travelling the stars," Thomas said.

"How?" she asked again.

The viewscreen snapped shut and was replaced by a map of the galaxy. Different colored overlays started to display. "These different colors represent the spheres of influence of all the space-faring races in the galaxy." Caitlin spotted the spaces shared by the Citadel races. The Turian and Asari sectors were the largest. She spotted a silver blob.

"What's that?" she asked.

"The last known location of the Quarian Migrant Fleet. They went faster-than-light about two hours ago and will remain undetectable for several hours more, though we have a good guess where they will reappear," Alyssa said.

"And that?" Caitlin asked as she pointed to a massive green spread covering a good fifth of the galaxy.

"The Neo-Covenant, though we don't know if that is what they actually call themselves now," Alyssa said. "They have been so very quiet since the end of the war."

"And where are we in all of this?" she asked.

"We know what is going on in the blue regions," Thomas said.

"The entire map is blue," Caitlin said.

"Exactly," the AI said curtly. "By inheritance, humanity is now the most powerful race in the galaxy, whether you know it or not." It was clear that by 'you,' Thomas meant the entire human race, not just Caitlin.

"Inheritance? What inheritance?" She faced Adam.

"The Ecumeneary," he said. The word sent shivers down her spine and she swore she felt the room they were in shiver along with her. "The Forerunners."  
The room descended into an uneasy silence. Caitlin once again got the feeling that the very walls were stifling the conversation. The AIs seemed to get faraway looks in their silence was broken by Alyssa. "Adam, take Caitlin to Doctor Ellen and then meet Jeff and Allison at the level three armory." She turned to Caitlin. "I do apologize for this, dear, but duty calls." Both AIs disappeared in a flurry of holographic sparks.

Caitlin turned to face Adam to ask him what was happening, only to find him already standing in the doorway waiting for her.

"Well, come on!" he said.

She hurried after him onto the elevator and they shot upwards.

**Well, there it is. Didn't exactly come out how I intended it to, but it never does, does it? This chapter was supposed to be quite a bit longer, but I just wanted to get something out for you guys. On that note, I'd also like some input from you, the readers.**

**1. I find myself at a crossroads. Just how AU should this story go? I have some pretty cool ideas and plot points planned, but they don't really fit in anywhere if I follow the plot from the ME games. So what do you guys think? Go AU and probably take a while longer to get chapters out, or follow the ME plot relatively closely and MAYBE (huge emphasis) get chapters out a bit faster? Let me know in a review or a private message. **

**2. I'll be honest, this part of the story is killing me. Caitlin's story is progressing slower than I initially planned and the vast, VAST majority of my story ideas take place outside of Shepard's story and after ME1 and I don't really have the motivation to rewrite all of the main missions from ME1 with only minor modifications. So if I take some shortcuts and copouts, I apologize, but I want to get past this as fast and as efficiently as possible.**

**3. Also, I've enabled anonymous reviews, so if you're too lazy to sign in (that's me a lot of times) or you just don't have an account you can still leave a review, but know that I won't be able to reply as easily if you do.**

**Thanks, and have a good day!**

**(Oh, and check out the codex on my profile page for some extra goodies. I've updated it a little between now and the previous chapter.)**


	18. 15: Spectres and Ghosts

**First off, with anonymous reviews being enabled, I can't respond to those reviews, so I've decided to just put a few words here to address some points. (Don't worry, this won't be another rant.) Keep in mind that I'm not arguing with anyone, I'm just trying to explain a little of my own logic behind what I'm doing or trying to get some clarification.**

**In quite a few of these reviews (for the entire story, not just the last chapter), people have been telling me that the Citadel races haven't advanced culturally, socially, economically, culturally, technologically for hundreds or even thousands of years. I'm NOT an adherent to this philosophy. I believe that a society cannot be stagnant for that length of time and still remain in a position with enough power to administrate a single nation, let alone a galactic empire. However, enough people have presented this that I'm wondering if anyone can actually find some solid in-game, in-lore reference to this for me, or is this just a band wagon thing? If you can, please leave a review here or send me a private message telling me where to look. Thanks!**

**Also on the topic of technological stagnancy, I feel it is unfair to say the UNSC would just wipe the floor with the ME-verse races. According to Halo lore, humanity is still using gunpowder-based weapons nearly exclusively 500 years into the future (600 for this story), regardless of how advanced those weapons are. If anything, I am of the opinion that the ME firearms, which fire tiny shards of metal alloy at hyper-sonic velocities should be MORE powerful than their equivalent counterparts in the UNSC arsenal. Of course, weapons like the M41 LAAV, M68, or M99 are excluded from this, but they are generally outliers I feel. On a similar note, the Halo humans still drive cars **_**with wheels.**_** And it's not like some people just chose to go old-school. I don't recall mention of mass use of private civilian flying cars (like those in the ME lore, or at such a scale) at any point in the Halo timeline. Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me that Humanity has also been pretty stagnant for their part. **

**From a writer's (and amateur-guy-who-likes-physics) standpoint it also just makes more sense to level the playing field. I've always found the MAC guns from Halo to be a bit…excessive. The ME stats for ship-mounted rail guns seem far more plausible (I'll admit, pretty soon I won't have room to talk, but whatever. Call me a hypocrite then.). Of course, this is happening 4 or 5 hundred years after Mass effect, so the weapons will be more powerful. Humanity has also just come out of a genocidal war, so they will be slightly more advanced in the rail gun department, but they will also be losing interest in these weapons, for the same reason I no longer use Minutemen but rather Mechanized Infantry (There's a little Civ V reference for you.).**

**Also, I've had some great conversations with a few of you guys. You know who you are. So here's a shout out to you. You guys are the reason I whipped myself to get this chapter out at such a blistering speed (for me).**

**And one last thing before the chapter begins. Note that there is several days' difference between the happenings on the Citadel and Caitlin's story.**

**Anyway, sorry for the long prelude. If you would rather me put these at the end, let me know. Once again, more story building. Probably one, maybe two, more chapters until some more action, but we'll see. Enjoy!**

* * *

_STG Agent: 'Despite the numerous weapons and arms limitations placed on the UEG, and the lowest fleet numbers the UNSC has had since encountering the Turians at Shanxi, we have found that the human military has in fact never been stronger or more capable.'_

_Turian Councilor: 'And why is that?'_

_Agent: 'For one, Humans have a seemingly innate ability for finding loop holes in legislation. The prime example is that they aren't actually decommissioning their ships, but rather putting them into cold storage, a process they call 'mothballing.' Technically, they are complying with all treaties because those ships aren't actually on the line anymore and their weapons and nav systems are removed or powered down, but should the need arise, those ships could be recommissioned in a very short span of time._

_Secondly, it's like they have an inside knowledge at how the universe is working, one far greater than our own. They're advancing at an astonishing speed. They're already more advanced than us, and in more than just military technology. Their communication networks are faster and can handle larger quantities of data than ours. Theirs ships are marginally faster and more efficient, in both FTL and sub-luminal velocities. Both bio-foam and medigel, now staples of our militaries, are of human origin and both are being redesigned to be more effective. Additionally, truly vast amounts of money are being pumped into their advanced R&D branches, particularly towards a handful of projects: Project Infinity, Operation Kingmaker, and Project Ad Astra. We have as of yet been unable to discern what these project are.'_

_Salarian Councilor: 'Just how vast are those sums?'_

_Agent: 'Hundreds of billions of credits worth of money, supplies, and technology annually into just those three projects.'_

_TC: 'How long would a preemptive strike have before having to deal with those 'mothballed' ships? Weeks? Months?_

_Agent: [chuckle] 'A week, two at most. Our simulations show that the majority of the mothballed vessels would be operational by the end of the first day of hostilities and combat ready by the end of the third. The biggest delay there comes from having to stock the ships' munitions bays. The formation of battle groups, manning of the vessels, and transit to battlefields will take up the remainder of that estimate.'_

_TC: 'But part of the treaties required them to remove mass effect drives from their vessels also. How can they re-install those in only a few days?'_

_Agent: 'That's another loophole they're exploiting. The treaties call for mass effect drives to be removed, but at the time of the treaty we didn't know they didn't use eezo drives, at least as extensively as us. We just assumed they did like all the other races. They use eezo as a means to make their own power plants more efficient, but are under no obligation to actually use them to power and propel their ships. They would lose the majority of their speed advantage, but that is about the only adverse side effect. Therefore, all their ships in mothball have their drives in a state of standby and can be brought online within hours.'_

_Asari Councilor: 'Is that all?'_

_Agent: 'Hardly. Even at full readiness, the human fleet would only number about 80% of the total strength of the Council races. However, their military vessels are powerful, powerful enough to more than make up for any number gap. The largest class of vessels they routinely use are 'battlecruisers,' a sort of middle ground between our cruisers and dreadnoughts. Their largest vessels are super carriers, cruisers and super-cruisers, and their dreadnought, nearly all of which are mothballed. Our fleets could deal with their fleets as they stand right now, but if their heavy fleets should be brought online, any fleet actions will likely be very short_

_[Dialogue removed for brevity]_

_Agent: Even the humans seemed surprised at how fast they're growing. However they are doing it is rendered moot in the face of the fact that their military is superb, though. They have the discipline of the Turian military thanks to their previous experiences, their special forces groups can fight on par with the finest Asari Commando units thanks to their armor and weapon systems, and they can match the intellect of my own people thanks to their AIs. As such, it is the recommendation of this study that, should the need for a military confrontation against the UNSC arise, normal military procedures MUST be abandoned. A unified Citadel first strike must be launched not at the command network or primary military infrastructure, but rather towards these mothball yards._

_ -Security briefing to the Citadel Council. Classified Above Top Secret._

**1813 Hours Military Standard Time, June 1, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard Citadel Station, Council Chamber**

Shepard looked at the faces of the humans around him. Kaiden and Ashley had broad grins plastered over their faces. Anderson looked content and relieved. Walker was unreadable. Udina's face was smug and self-admiring, almost as if he were the one who had been made a Spectre.

_Spectre._ The word still made Shepard shiver. He was actually one of them. After five firefights across three levels on two arms of the Wards and picking up a motley collection of a disgruntled C-Sec agent, a shot-yet-tenacious Quarian, and a blood-thirsty Krogan, he had finally gathered enough evidence to make the Council see the light of truth.

That truth hadn't gone over very well, especially with the Turian Councilor. He had been livid with rage upon discovering he had been betrayed by not just one of his own, but one of his best. The Asari Councilor had, for her part, seemed very saddened to learn that one of _her_ own, Matriarch Benezia, had aided Saren in his attack on Eden Prime. Then, just as Shepard had thought they had won and the Council would help humanity defend itself against one of their rogue agents and the Geth, they had dropped a massive bombshell.

They would commit no fleets to hunting down Saren.

It had been Udina's turn to be livid then. He had made them stand there as he read the treaties they had forced down humanity's throat when the two groups had first met.

The Turian Councilor had slyly commented how humanity had swallowed on its own accord, at which point Udina had turned a deep shade of purple. The Asari had been far more diplomatic.

It was an "internal security issue" and the Citadel couldn't interfere militarily in an issue that didn't have "galactic repercussions." She had then offered the best possible substitute. Replace their lost Spectre with a new one, one whose main objective would be to stop Saren. That replacement would be Shepard. The proposal had silenced even Udina. For a non-Council race to have a Spectre was unheard of. For a race that was not even officially fully part of the Citadel was even more so. Udina couldn't say no to that, nor the recognition it would bring him, and so here Shepard stood, Humanity's first Spectre.

"Congratulations, Commander," Udina said. "You've made great strides for humanity today." He held out his right hand.

Shepard took it and gave a firm shake. "Thank you, Ambassador."

Udina nodded and then spoke to Anderson. "Captain, I have some final paperwork that needs to be filled out before Shepard departs. Meet me in my office in twenty minutes." He walked off before Anderson could reply.

Anderson just shook his head as he watched the Ambassador walk away. Once he was out of earshot, he said. "Sometimes, I just want to strangle the life out of that man."

Shepard just chuckled as Anderson faced him. "So you've actually done it. Must say I'm impressed, though not surprised. Damn Council had to see reason there at the end." He eyed Shepard up and down and then nodded, seemingly pleased with what he saw. "The _Normandy_'s yours now, Shepard. You'll need her if you want to catch Saren."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "What about you? Aren't you coming with? You must want to catch this guy too."

Anderson laughed. "Damn right I do, but I'm getting too old for this, Shepard. Where you're going, you don't have room for dead weight. Besides, I can do more good from here."

Shepard asked, skeptically, "Yeah? Like what, sir?"

"Keep Udina in line for one. Try to lead him down the middle path, at least."

Shepard had to concede that point. At this point Garrus walked up.

"Commander?" he asked.

"What's up, Garrus?" Shepard replied.

"There's someone here looking for you," Garrus said. "He told me to tell you he was an Admiral, though he didn't give his name."

Shepard's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He wasn't aware that an Admiral was currently on the Citadel.

"An Admiral? Are you sure?"

"That's what he said. His collar insignia were three stars, if that helps," Garrus said.

Shepard shared a glance with his human compatriots. Three stars meant a vice admiral, high enough to lead an entire fleet. One could be higher, but just barely. It would be best to check it out.

Anderson seemed to agree. "You lead, Commander. We'll follow."

Shepard glanced at Garrus and cocked an eyebrow. Garrus picked up on the human gesture and correctly interpreted it as asking for directions. "He was by the feet of the lower staircase."

Shepard nodded and said, "Thanks Garrus. Could you also gather Tali and Wrex up and meet us by the docking bay to the Normandy? I have a feeling we might want to get underway ASAP."

The Turian nodded and replied, "Sure thing, Commander."

Shepard nodded his thanks and proceeded down the stairs towards the mystery Admiral. When Shepard saw him, he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Andrew!" Shepard exclaimed as he embraced the Admiral. "Who the hell was stupid enough to give you that many stars?"

"Hey, respect soldier! I out-rank you now, no more of that 'Special Forces' bull-crap," the man retorted with a voice of authority but with a smile on his face. Kaiden, Ashley, Williams, and Anderson snapped to attention. Admiral del Rio, as his name tag read, acknowledged the gesture and said to them, "At ease. If you four could please give me a moment with the Commander and ensure we aren't bothered."

They replied in the affirmative and Andrew led Shepard to a corner of the atrium. "I see the years have been bad to you," he said to Shepard, noticing the battle scars from his latest endeavors on the Wards.

Shepard grunted. "Yeah, and you've shot up the ladder. You were a captain the last time I saw you, what, four, five years ago? Now you have three stars on your shoulders."

"Six and a half and these are only temporary," he said as he gestured to the stars on his shoulders. When Shepard game him an inquisitive look, he dropped his voice to barely above a whisper and continued, "I just came out of a tele-conference with HIGHCOM, not fifteen minutes ago. That's where they promoted me." Shepard opened his mouth to interrupt, but Andrew waved him down. "No, I don't have a lot of time. I don't even have enough time to properly congratulate you. I'm Earth-bound within the hour. Listen," he said as he dropped his voice even lower," You've got to get out there and catch this SOB Saren guy. He will tear our peace with the Council to shreds at a time when we can't afford it. Yeah, we don't really need them all that much, but our economy has absolutely exploded since we got involved here and we could do with only having a few things looking to sink their fangs into our throats at a time, and not the entire galaxy."

Shepard had to stop him, "What? This isn't making sense. Has something happened?"

"You're a ground-pounder, so I'll let it slide that you can't grasp the strategic picture," Andrew joked. "The Geth, Saren, that massive warship they attacked Eden Prime with, the Council. They're all connected somehow. Our eggheads are still trying to figure out how, but in the mean time we can't afford to let an attack on one of our colonies go unanswered. There are too many things out there looking for blood, ours in particular. We have to show the rest of the galaxy that while we might be new to their neck of the woods, we've done the rounds before and we know how to handle ourselves."

"Isn't that why I'm going after Saren?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah, but we still don't know if Saren was acting alone or if he is merely a puppet. If there is a puppeteer, we need to take the fight to them, not some middle-man. We also need something a bit more visible than a covert action." He looked Shepard in the eye and decided he had to make the severity of the situation absolutely crystal clear. "I'm breaking protocol and direct orders by telling you this, but the entire fleet is going to be raised to Condition Two shortly." That was news to Shepard. The only higher level was Condition One, which meant that the military basically had all control over aspects of public, foreign, economic and military policy. The UEG essentially would become a military state at that point. Condition One hadn't been declared since the Human-Covenant War. "All ships in combined patrols with the Citadel fleets are being recalled. When I leave for Earth, I'm taking the 32nd and 46th divisions with me." Those divisions were the human element of the Citadel Defensive Fleet. "The Third and Fifth Fleets are being consolidated into the Home Fleet and the 13th and 14th Fleets are joining the Second Fleet at Haven."

"Won't that just leave the colonies more susceptible to attack?" Shepard asked. "Unless… They wouldn't." He looked at his OCS buddy.

"They would and they are. They're activating half of the Moth-ball Fleets. The Reserves have already been called to active duty. The 7th and 18th will take over patrol duty on the colonies. They'll be spread a little thin, but hopefully all eyes will be focused on me. I'm to take command of the Fourth, Sixth, and Tenth."

"The Sixth?" Shepard asked. "There are a lot of heavy hitters in that fleet."

Andrew nodded. "And that's not all." He took a deep breath. "Those are only on loan until they're needed elsewhere. My permanent command is the Ninth."

Shepard's eyes widened. "The _Sol_?"

"My flagship. You see the gravity of the current events, then?"

Shepard nodded. "The Council isn't going to like this."

It was Andrew's turn to nod. "Damn right they won't. They'll try to drown us in sanctions, in all likelihood. However, two things play in our favor. Firstly, our economies are inter-twined. They mighty hurt our economy, but they'll be shooting themselves in the kneecaps pretty badly at the same time. Secondly, and more importantly, the majority consensus in both HIGHCOM and Congress is to hell with the Council, and most of the taxpayers feel the same way. We accepted the arms limitation treaties with the understanding that the Council and Citadel races would help bolster and strengthen our defenses and come to our aid should the need arise. Now that we actually invoked those clauses, they're back-pedaling and doing it hard. They don't want to get caught up in this mess."

"Why not, though?"

"Look at them, Shepard." They looked at the non-Humans in the room as Andrew continued speaking. "They're absolutely terrified of us. They know that we don't really need their authority to do anything and that they don't have the forces to stop us if we really want to do our own thing. So if something could hurt us this bad, imagine what it would do to them. However, right now, our only concern is securing our borders and ensuring _nothing_ can attack us again." Andrew glanced at his watch. "I have to go, but one last thing. You have a week, two tops, from the day I mobilize my fleet, to end this. Then I'm taking my task force into the Fringe sectors and doing the serious house-cleaning that the Council should have done decades ago and trust me, once we go on the warpath, nothing in this galaxy is going to be able to stop us."

**0625 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Caitlin West, Exact Location Unknown, Earth, Sol System**

They stepped out of the elevator into a room different than the one where they had first gotten onto the elevator. Caitlin concluded that they must be on a different level. They walked through a door and she was immediately assaulted by the brutally clean smell of a hospital. They walked down the central hallway at a blistering pace. Caitlin found she had to jog every third or fourth step to keep up to Adam, even though he was only two or three inches taller than her. As they passed the different sick bays and operating rooms, she noticed that only one or two of the hundreds of beds were occupied. They stopped in front of the room directly down the hall from the elevator.

Adam turned to face her. "This is Doctor Claire Ellen. She'll take care of you for the time being and get you kitted out. She'll also make sure you get back home safely." He started walking back to the elevator.

"Wait!" Caitlin called out. When he turned to face her, she asked, "What about you? Where are you going?"

He shook his head and said, "I can't answer that. I'll be back as soon as I can so we can start your training."

She stared after him until the elevator doors closed behind him, wondering _Training? What training?_ She cast the question aside. Undoubtedly it would be answered in time. She took a breath and turned to face the door to Dr. Ellen. She knocked and keyed the entry button. She walked into an office far different from the rest of the hospital. Papers, made from actual tree fiber, were scattered across the floor and pinned to the walls. A few were even stuck to the roof directly above the desk that occupied the center of the room. Surprisingly, most of them were simple pencil sketches, though of exquisite detail. The parts of the walls that weren't covered in drawings were covered in book racks holding hundreds of actual paper books. A small couch was crammed into the corner to the left behind the desk, though that too was covered by papers, so much in fact that it looked like the body mass of an entire person. When Caitlin didn't see anyone in the room, she started studying the drawings closest to the door. A lot of them were of soldiers and combat scenes. She recognized Adam in quite a few of them, as well as that Alexis Hamilton woman who had been waiting to see the Colonel. She moved over to the desk and looked at the papers pinned to the roof. She blushed when she saw they were fairly sexually explicit. One of them featured Adam and Alexis. Caitlin looked away and moved over to the couch, examining the room as she went. Despite the apparent disarray of the room, there wasn't a layer of dust on anything, suggesting that everything moved around fairly regularly. She found a spot on the couch devoid of paper that had a blanket crumbled up on it. She contemplated moving the blanket, but decided against it, mainly because she didn't see any other place to put it.

She sat down, but jumped up when the pile of paper beside her emitted a yell. She scrambled to the other side of the desk and watched in fascinated horror as an entire person emerged from the couch. As the papers fell away, Caitlin saw that she had accidentally sat on a girl. The girl sat fully upright and stretched and then rubbed her eyes. She suddenly saw Caitlin and jumped to her feet, scattering papers everywhere. If Caitlin's heart hadn't been beating a mile a minute, she would have found the scene mildly amusing. As it was, she just stared silently at the girl until she spoke a few seconds later.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I just closed my eyes for a moment." She had a very bubbly voice, despite having just woken up. "'Grab every bit of sleep you can', that's my motto." She started fumbling with papers in a desperate bid for even a semblance of order, but gave up after a few seconds and just threw the papers she had collected back onto the couch. "I'm guessing you're Caitlin, right?"

"Yeah," Caitlin said slowly. She didn't know what to make of the girl and so decided to just cut to the chase. "Adam brought me here to see Dr. Ellen."

A look of dismay crossed her face and she fell back onto the couch, crushing the papers she had just dropped. "Oh God. Adam was here? Did he come in? He didn't see me lying there did he?" She shook her head. "No. That doesn't matter. I'm Dr. Ellen, though I wish they would just call me Claire."

Caitlin did a double take. This girl in front of her couldn't have been older than twenty. Claire's facial expression became one like that of a person just informed a spider was crawling down her face.

"What is it?" she asked, terrified.

Caitlin shook herself. "Sorry. Nothing, it's just… You're not quite who I was expecting to see…"

"What? Oh, yeah. I get that a lot," she said, getting back up. "Rest assured, I am a fully-licensed medical doctor." She glanced around. "My degrees are around here somewhere…"

"Oh, I believe you," Caitlin said, mostly just to put off the desperate search she was sure would follow. "So, uh, Adam said something about "kitting" me out?"

"Right!" Claire looked around for something, seemed to give up, and walked to the door. "Follow me, please."

Caitlin followed her out and they set off down the hallway back to the elevator. About half way down the hallway, they stopped and entered one of the side rooms. Caitlin saw that it was a sort of examination room.

"Have a seat," Claire said, gesturing to the seat in the middle of the room. After Caitlin was seated, Claire continued. "So, mostly I just need to get a blood sample and run some other small tests on you. The blood sample is the most invasive of them. Is that okay?"

Caitlin nodded.

"Excellent!"

As Claire started the tests, Caitlin asked, "Mind if I ask you a few questions?" Claire seemed far more, if not amiable, then at least more sociable than Adam, the Colonel, or the Assembly.

Claire looked up from what she was doing and said, "Sure. I have to tell you though, I haven't been here all too long, compared with some of the others, but I'll try to tell you everything I can."

"What exactly is this place?"

Claire looked surprised. "Nobody's told you?"

Caitlin shook her head.

"We're in the Portal Facility at Voi, in Africa."

Caitlin's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? So we're in a Forerunner facility?" She looked at the room. Now that she knew what she was looking for, she could begin to see the Forerunner architecture. Something was off, though. "I would've expected everything to be a bit more… angular. And spacious, really."

"Believe it or not, it actually was, once upon a time. The entire facility appears to be half alive."

"What do you mean?"

"It's strange, really. The structure can move, reconfigure, itself. It's kind of adapted itself to be better for humans. It used to be massive, from what I hear, but slowly shrank over the years."

Something clicked in Caitlin's brain and she remembered when Adam had mentioned the Forerunners in the Assembly room. The room really _had_ shivered.

Claire continued, "Anyway, it's cozy enough for how long some of us stay here, but Spartan enough to remind us why we are here in the first place."

"And what exactly _is_ it that you do here?"

Claire walked over to a counter and pulled out a syringe to take the blood sample. "Well, I'm the Chief Surgeon, General Doctor, and Head Psychologist here," she chuckled at her own pun, "but I have a feeling you were more referring to all of this," she said as she waved around her vaguely. "They don't actually have a name for themselves, so I just call them The Project. Some of them have even started calling themselves that, informally at least." She paused and looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "Come to think of it, I don't exactly know what it is that they do. They do do a lot of good stuff for humanity, though, and they are proud of what they've done, especially the scientists among them. They've done some great stuff. The refinement of quantum comms, faster and more accurate slipspace jumps, Titanium-S, that little affair a while ago about bringing a brain out of a vegetative coma, that's all their work and that's only the stuff I know about. You'll like some of them." Claire walked away with a small vial of blood. Caitlin hadn't even noticed the needle, but that was the miracle of modern medicine. Claire placed it on a pedestal that quickly drained the blood and started analyzing it. She faced Caitlin and leaned back on the counter.

"And Adam?"

"He, and the others like him, is a… soldier, I guess would be the best way to put it. They all actually came from the UNSCDF, so they were at one point actually in the military. Now they're a sort of special forces group. I know they do a lot of deniable ops, things where they operate outside the normal military. I know even less of what they do than I know about the scientific endeavors, though. I just patch them up after they come back from ops. But I do know that for everything the scientists do to better the human condition, Adam and his comrades have done several things to ensure humanity is alive long enough to benefit from it." Caitlin's gut told her that Claire had a better knowledge of affairs than she was letting on, but a beep from the machine Claire had put the blood into cut off further conversation. She turned around and spent all of five seconds checking the results. When she turned to face Caitlin, she spoke cheerfully, almost as if she had forgotten all about the grave conversation they had been having, "Ok, so that's that. One last thing though. All members of The Project get a special neural lace when they join. Now, before you panic, the Colonel told me to offer you one, but also tell you that it is in no way required." She leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. "Personally, I love mine, but the choice is up to you."

Caitlin was suddenly struck by some hesitation. The thought of having a lace wasn't unsettling; nearly everyone in society had one and they made life much simpler. What was causing Caitlin's hesitation was the thought of something new and unfamiliar being stuck into her brain. All children had laces installed when they were around the age of 4 and Caitlin had been no different. She had also had an upgrade when she turned 16 as a reward for getting her first degree. It had been an unnerving and uncomfortable experience to say the least. "Is it safe?" she asked quietly.

Claire looked taken aback. "Of course! This is some high-end stuff, generations above anything you'd find on the open market. And if you're worried about my doctoring skills, don't. Half of the people you've seen today are alive because they went under _my_ knife, and not some second-grade surgeon's at your local metro hospital."

"And what exactly does it do?"

"Everything your current lace does, just faster, and it has a few additional bells and whistles thrown in. I don't know why you're here and I don't want to know, but if they brought in someone new, you probably have a very, _very_ large mountain in front of you and this lace will definitely help you sort through all the data you're going to be taking in. It'll also help you interface more smoothly with the networks here."

Caitlin decided that she had already done and seen crazier in the past few hours and so agreed.

"Great! Please turn over onto your stomach and I'll be done in a jiffy."

Caitlin wanted to tell her to take her time, but remained silent and complied. She heard a new and rather smooth voice and recognized it as an AI's.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Galen?"

"The chip you pre-selected for this process is giving sub-par performances. I have taken the liberty of selecting another chip that matches Miss West's physiology to 99.978 percent. Is that satisfactory?"

"Yes, that'll do great. Thanks Galen."

"My pleasure, Doctor. I'll have the chip to you in a moment."

Claire put a hand on Caitlin's shoulder. "I'm going to give you some anesthesia. People find it much more pleasant this way and it's much safer for your brain."

"Okay," Caitlin squeezed out. Silently she was grateful she wouldn't be awake as her current lace was pulled from her brain and a new one inserted. This time she felt the prick of the needle. Within moments, a solid black haze settled over her vision and she lost all sensation of time and space.

**0645 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ UNSC MIL_AI ID: 350 GLN (Galen) (ret'd.), Voi Portal Facility, Earth, Sol System**

It had been a lie, technically. There was nothing "sub-par" with the performance from the chip Dr. Ellen had selected. In fact it was an even better match than the replacement, and this bothered Galen, but the alternative offered so many possibilities. He also had reservations about deceiving a patient, because the chance of rejection was in fact much higher, if one included the long-term probability of implant failure or rejection. Despite these misgivings, though, he understood the necessity of the act and regardless, he would have been overruled by the Assembly if he had objected and might have been replaced by another not so qualified as he. So he silently went about the task of retrieving the chip the Assembly had spent the last fifty three years, two months, seven days, nine hours, fifty minutes, and twenty-three point zero five seconds guarding so closely, keeping even the knowledge of its existence from humanity. As he watched the slow and clumsy (for an AI of his level) robotic manipulators pull the chip from cold storage, the enormity of the situation hit his logical and emotional processors like a train. Or at least how he imagined it would have felt getting hit by a train. If what they were about to attempt was anywhere near a success, the next step in the evolution of _Homo sapiens_ was about to begin, and Caitlin would be the catalyst of it all.

* * *

**There you have it. I hope you liked it (and the speed at which it came out). If you did, please let me know. If you didn't, let me know why (civilly).**

**Also, I need some feedback on the Codex on my profile page. I feel like hosting it on my profile page is a very inefficient way of doing it because there is no way for you guys to know what the new entries are. I have updated it some and I have new entries finished that I would like to update, but I first want to get your suggestions on the matter. What do you think I should do about this?**

**One last thing. I'm toying around with an idea for later on in the story, but I need some help. If anyone who reads this has an intimate knowledge of the workings of the officer rankings in the US Navy (particularly O-7 to O-11) or knows someone who does, please let me know. And by intimate, I mean more than just having read the Wikipedia article. I need someone who knows how the politics behind the scenes works, and not just which one is higher.**


	19. 16: To War

_ 'I got a lot of flak from the press following the treaty I agreed to at the Citadel. It was probably what cost me the next election. But what people seemed to overlook at the time was that Congress and the General Assembly also passed the treaty, even if just barely. The people needed a scapegoat, though, and unfortunately, that fell on me. That's not to say I regret my decision. I wouldn't do anything differently, if I could redo it._

_ 'We made a good show of force when we showed up at the Citadel, and I _know_ we would have won that battle, and probably the war that would have followed. But what then? We would very likely have been right back to where we had been after the Great War. No. It was far better for us to swallow our damn stubborn human pride for a few decades and get off to a good start. Look where we are now. A full quarter of the trade that goes through the Citadel and onto Council space is human. We have engrained ourselves into their culture and society so much now that were we to pull out, they would be devastated, while we would manage to stand alone._

_ 'I know many of you will still not agree with what I have wrote or the things that I did, but know that I stand by them and I sleep soundly at night knowing that I did what I felt was best for the human race.'_

_ Ex-President Patricia Martinez, in her memoirs._

**0645 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629(revised date, Military Calendar)/ Clare Ellen, Forerunner Portal Facility, Voi, Africa, Earth, Sol System**

The neural laces of the 27th Century could all be traced back, eventually, to 2065, when Dr. Cassandra Berezin developed the first modern neural lace and successfully implanted it in a human patient. Dr. Berezin's design was little more than a crude interface that allowed rudimentary data to be shared directly between a computer and the cortex of the brain. Naturally, the latest in neural laces were orders of magnitude more sophisticated and elegant than that first rough step, not to mention safer. The chip Caitlin had had, a high-end thirteenth generation lace from the Nanosoft Corporation, was related to that first lace in the same way that the _Sol_ and the original _USS America_ were both called 'ships.' The lace Clare was implanting in Caitlin now was about again as powerful. It wasn't necessarily because the physical tech was that much more advanced, but the new lace, what Clare called a '15th Generation' (purposely skipping the 14th), spoke of a knowledge of the human brain and physiology that went deep, far deeper than even humans knew. The 15th Gen laces were so advanced in fact, that the scientists of the Project were just starting to make headway on how to backward engineer them. When they had first been discovered in the portal facility, it had been assumed they were left there by the Forerunners as their empire crumbled before the Flood. Years passed before it was realized that the seeds from which the laces would grow had been designed and constructed to perfectly sync with the human mind. Combined with the fact that there were trillions of them, each only few microns or so in diameter, their purpose had become crystal clear.

The procedure was simple enough. The seed would be inserted into the base of the brain stem via a hypo-dermic needle. Nutrients would then be pumped into the patient's blood stream, which would gather in his or her brain. The seed would use these nutrients to grow around the brain, interfacing with neurons in every major or vital part of the brain. Injecting the seed could be done in a few seconds by an experienced doctor, but the part where the lace grew and interfaced with the brain would take much longer. Clare would keep Caitlin unconscious for an hour to make sure the seed could get a good foothold without higher order brain processes getting the way. After that, Caitlin's brain would start forming new neural connections not just with itself but also with the lace, enabling Caitlin to store more memories and recall them more vividly, have a greater intuition for problem solving and capacity for lateral thinking, and a dozen other beneficial side effects. The neuroscientist in Clare was thrilled to see how what would arguably be mankind's greatest mind would adapt to this new-found power. The behavioral psychologist in her couldn't wait to see how that mind would drive itself with said power.

The human being in her cursed herself for subjecting another innocent soul to the ravings and control of a man gone mad with power.

**0530 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard Citadel Station, UNSC Docking Berth 7 Alpha**

"Well, she's all yours now, Shepard," Anderson said, gazing out at the _Normandy_. "She's a fine ship. Take care of her and she'll take care of you, and all that crap," he finished with a smile.

Shepard smiled back, but the truth was there. The _UNSV Normandy_ was a_ very_ fine ship. By Citadel standards, she had the tonnage of a heavy frigate. In the UNSC, she was the love child of a frigate and a prowler. The Normandy Initiative had originally been introduced as a way to create good will between the UNSC and the Turian Hierarchy. It had soon developed into a program to create the ideal special operations platform. At one point, several dozen had been on back order by both ONI and the Turian equivalent. However, several factors had combined to doom the project and eventually the Turians had pulled out of the program entirely, leaving Section Three to fund a sole prototype, which was currently berthed in front of Shepard. "I think we'll do just fine."

They were interrupted by a man clearing his throat and saying, "Excuse me, sirs, I'm looking for Commander Shepard."

"Well, you've found me," Shepard said.

The man saluted and the chevrons of a staff sergeant flashed on his uniform. Shepard and Anderson returned the gesture.

"Staff Sergeant Luke Sinclair, 2nd Squad, Delta Company, 82nd Spaceborne, Reporting for duty, sir!"

Shepard looked at Anderson, curiously. Anderson shook his head. "I wasn't aware you would be reporting, Staff Sergeant," he said as he and Anderson returned the salute.

Sinclair didn't miss a beat as he said, "Our orders came directly from Admiral del Rio, Commander.

"Del Rio? I thought he'd already left for Earth," Shepard said.

"He has sir," Sinclair responded. "Told me to gather my squad and gear and report for duty on the _Normandy, _kicked us off his boat, and jumped."

"Did he mention anything specific, Sergeant?" Anderson asked.

"Negative, Captain. Just that we were to provide support for Commander Shepard's mission. I was the only one to receive an intpac. It was pretty vague, but I gathered enough to know you're going off the reservation, so to speak, and into some dark corners of the galaxy. Figured my team would help give you an edge. Plus, I brought proper firepower. I know the _Normandy_ was only on a shakedown run when she got diverted, so figured I can at least help fill her armory out, sir. If you'll have my squad, that is."

"Well I don't really have a choice, do I Sergeant? We're your ticket off this station, so I can't exactly just leave you here can I?" Shepard said.

"Not at all sir. I got permission from the Admiral to make sure my boys get home if you refuse.

Shepard looked at Anderson, who shook his head and said, "The _Normandy_ is yours now, Commander. It's your call, not mine."

Shepard walked over to the railing and looked at his ship. Accepting the Sergeant's aid would be great, especially if they brought along top-tier gear. The biggest, and in fact only, thing causing Shepard's hesitation came from how sudden the offer was. In his experience putting together long duration, deep infiltration combat missions, he had discovered it was not good to bring new blood onboard shortly before the op. It messed with unit cohesion. On the other hand, if the boxes Sinclair's boys were carrying were any indication, they had some excellent toys in hand. Shepard made up his mind and stuck out his hand.

"Welcome aboard, Sergeant."

**1945 Hours Military Standard Time, June 3, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Shepard, Onboard **_**UNSV Normandy**_**, Orbiting planet Therum, Artemis Tau Cluster**

"This is our objective?" Ashley asked. "It looks like Hell."  
Shepard looked at the holographic representation floating in front of him and found he couldn't agree more. The planet was covered by the same proportion of lava as Earth was covered by liquid water. "Affirmative. This is Therum. The only real reason it's of any note is because of the extensive Prothean ruins it has, most of them subterranean. Which is also why our target is here." The hologram changed to show an Asari. "This is Doctor Liara T'Soni, daughter of Matriarch Benezia and, by all accounts, a savant when it comes to the Protheans. Apart from Saren, Benezia is currently the most wanted fugitive in ONI's eyes. Hopefully, her daughter knows where we can find her.  
"This mission was supposed to be a simple snatch and grab." Shepard noted how Sinclair perked up at the "supposed" part. "All hails to the research station have gone unanswered. In fact, there has been no out-bound traffic since we got on-station. We've tried running scans of the main compound and dig site, but we can't see anything going on and this planet gives off so much residual heat, thermal scans are all but useless for scanning the structures." Shepard paused. "Furthermore, Joker picked up a Geth warship in orbit." Glances were exchanged among the crew members. "I'm afraid we're going to insert in the dark on this one, but I can all but guarantee things are going to get hot down there. Now, the ground team will consist of myself, Lieutenant Alenko, Chief Williams, Garrus, and Wrex. We will be the primary extraction team. Everyone else will remain on the _Normandy_ as backup if things go south. Any questions?" When none were forthcoming, Shepard dismissed them and looked back the scans the _Normandy_ had taken of the dig site that was the last confirmed location of Dr. Liara T'Soni. It was a tactical nightmare. Deep ravines and high outcroppings would give the defenders a definite edge.

He looked up when he heard a voice say, "Excuse me, Commander?" It was Sergeant Sinclair.

"What can I do for you, Sergeant?"

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why not let my team handle this? We've dropped with a lot less intel than this, and we've done plenty of hot extracts," Sinclair asked.

"So have Alenko and Williams. Garrus has dealt with plenty of hostage situation on the Citadel, I'm sure, and he was military before that. Wrex, well, is a Krogan. It's not exactly a greenhorn team I'm taking down there, Sergeant," Shepard replied.

"I wasn't implying it, Commander." Sinclair came to a relaxed attention, almost as if apologizing.

Shepard chuckled mirthlessly. "Stand easy, Sergeant. Honestly, I'm glad you stayed behind. It saved me the effort of having to call you back."  
"Sir?"

"Your team isn't sitting this one out. I've gone over your CSVs. You and your team have a very particular skillset that no one else on this ship has." Shepard sent a mental command to the _Normandy_ and the holoview changed to show the Geth ship in orbit. "We don't know how long they've been here, but if they aren't bombing the planet from orbit, I think it's safe to say they also want Dr. T'Soni alive. We have no idea how long they've been down there, or if they've found her yet. If the ground team lands as the Geth are extracting, we won't have time to extract ourselves. That's where you come in."

"You want us to launch a starside intercept."

Shepard nodded. "If we get so unlucky. You'll be deploying with Tali'Zorah. I know it's not ideal to launch an operation like this with someone who's never done a boarding action before, but she's the only one here who knows anything about how the Geth actually operate."

"No worries, Commander. We've babysat softer targets in hotter AOs. We won't let you down."

"I hope the situation doesn't get that bad, Sergeant, I really do. You're dismissed. Go prep your team," Shepard said as he reverted the holomap back to the dig site.

**0800 Hours Military Standard Time, June 4, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Vice Admiral Andrew del Rio, Onboard **_**UNSV Sol**_**, Observation Deck 1-A, Location Classified**

Vice Admiral Andrew del Rio, commanding officer of the Combined Ninth Fleet, stared out from the large plexiglass window in the observation room at the 515 vessels that comprised his fleet. Of course, he could only make out a rough dozen of them with his unaided eyes and only two or three were anything more than a particularly bright point of light in the night sky and even they were too far away to be distinct, but he knew they were all out there.  
_And hopefully no one else does,_ he thought. As he looked out the window, the prow of the UNSV _Grand Bazaar_ slid into view, a mere 200 meters off the starboard side of the _Sol_. The _Bazaar_ was the largest fleet tender in the UNSC fleet, and yet she was still dwarfed by the _Sol._ While the base part of his brain stood in awe of the spectacle in front of him, the more logical and knowledgeable part was screaming at him that he was in a very, _very_ dangerous position.  
The Ninth was in the middle stages of UNREP, or Underway Replenishment, a term dating back to the water navies of 20th century Earth. Even with six-hundred-plus years of technological growth between now and then, the process was still as dangerous, perhaps even more so, considering the sheer quantities of supplies being ferried between two ships in deep space. UNREP was meant to be a way for UNSC fleets to restock, resupply, and replenish their food, munitions, and fuel far from a military port. The main advantage was that it allowed the fleets to spend extended periods of time in their areas of operation without having to return-to-base every few months. The biggest downside was the need for a high concentration of things designed for the express purpose of going 'boom' a very short distance from one's ship.  
Del Rio knew enough about his ship to know that she could hold far more than the _Bazaar_ could provide. So much more, in fact, that the _Sol_ had five dedicated tenders and _still_ drew on supplies from nearly two dozen of the other supply ships in the fleet. It would have been far faster and more efficient, not to mention safer, if this had been done in a dry dock, but UNSCFLEETCOM had wanted the CNF to remain off the radar as long as possible. Their current location also allowed for the disparate individual elements to rendezvous as soon as possible.

The _Bazaar_ was one of the dedicated munitions ships for the _Sol_, which accounted for the Admiral's current state of mind, which was worried. It wasn't the mere fact that there were several million kilograms of high explosive, antimatter, _and _radioactive material only a fifth of a kilometer from his ship that had him worried. He was concerned about how vulnerable he was at that instant in time and for the next few hours. If the Ninth was attacked right now, they wouldn't just be caught with their pants down, but also blindfolded and with their hands tied behind their back. Not only was the _Sol_ out of action for the next few hours as she received fuel and munitions, but the Ninth was spread out in a sphere around one and a half billion kilometers in diameter. It was far from both normal and ideal, but with the sheer amount of fuel and high explosives that was crisscrossing the fleet at the moment, del Rio didn't want to take any chances.  
Of course, the odds of them being discovered by anything at all were literally astronomical. The Ninth was currently parked in interstellar space, halfway between Haven and nowhere and several hundred light years from anything larger than the stray hydrogen or helium atom.  
He was broken from his reverie by the sound of a pair of approaching footsteps. He would have turned to see who it was, but had spent enough time around the two people to which the footsteps belonged to know who they were.  
"Captain. Commander," he said in greeting, watching as the refueling booms extended from the _Bazaar_.  
"Evening Admiral. Heck of a view isn't it?" That was the Commanding Officer of the UNSV _Sol_, Captain Jackson Lasky. The man had a hell of a pedigree. His father was Thomas Lasky Jr., current commander of UNSCINCOM, or Inner Command, based at Haven and responsible for the defense of all inner colonies except Earth. His grandfather had been Thomas Lasky Sr., who had led the UNSC fleets against the insurrections that had popped up after the Human-Covenant War. If there was one reason the UNSC and UEG still existed as coherent political entities, it was him. He had forged humanity back together after the War. His name was now held in the same pantheon as the names of Cole and Hood and Stanforth. The youngest Lasky wasn't the man his grandfather had been, but he was still a cut above nearly all fleet officers. He was young to boot, just into his thirties, and already in command of the most powerful weapon humanity had ever forged.  
"Admiral. Just fine, thank you for asking." Speaking of weapons... Some might have found the response sarcastic or borderline disrespectful, but del Rio knew it wasn't meant with any ill intent. Spartans tended to hold themselves in higher regard than that, this one in particular. The voice belonged to Commander Sarah Palmer, the commanding officer of the fleet's Spartan-IVs. The Fours were an enigma to del Rio on more than one front. Not only did he know next to nothing about them as a military force, aside from their efficiency, but he also didn't know what to make of them personally. There was no doubt they were the most powerful military unit in the Milky Way at the time, and the most powerful fielded by the UNSC since the Spartan-IIs. The problem was that they had a less than wholesome history. The IIs and IIIs had been, for all intents and purposes, child soldiers. That was a stigma the fours had to outgrow. They were all military age volunteers, all with vast time and experience in the military.

Del Rio grunted in acknowledgement. "You two didn't come down here just to say hi." Although his back was still turned to them, he knew they exchanged glances before Lasky spoke.

"No, sir. Something has come up."

Del Rio sighed inwardly. He had hoped they would at least make it through UNREP without a hitch. He turned to face them. "Alright then. Who bumped a warhead and how big was it?"

"Sir, perhaps we could do this in the CIC?" Lasky asked?

Del Rio looked around and nodded. So much for a quiet day.

It took them six and a half minutes to make their way to the CIC. Del Rio timed it. Part of him admired the massive feat of engineering it took build a ship that big. Another wondered why it should even be necessary. The CIC was quiet, dark, and cold. In other words, the exact same as every other CIC he had ever been on. It was that way on purpose though. The quiet ensured no vital piece of information would be missed. The darkness was so that there would be no glare on any viewscreen. The cold was to keep the computers' temperature down and the personnel focused. The room was mostly circular and bowl-like, like an amphitheater. The center was dominated by a massive holographic projector that could display anything from a battlefield to the latest holo-sim. At the moment, it was simply displaying a planet and relevant data.

"So, what's happening?" del Rio asked as he walked up to the command pedestal.

Next to him, an AI sprang into life, dressed in shining bronze armor and equipped with a bow.

"It's war, Admiral," it said.

"Ah, thank you for informing me, Apollo. I must have missed the memo," del Rio responded dryly.

"My pleasure, sir," the AI said with a bow. When he had straightened up again, he continued. "Seven minutes ago, we received a priority one hail from listening station Alpha Beta niner-one. They had initiated Cole Protocol upon receiving a distress call from one of our colonies in the region. They launched a recon probe and confirmed the threat: incursion by Geth forces."

Del Rio took it in for a moment. The Alpha Beta was parlance for the Attican Beta region. While there were sizable colonies in the cluster, there wasn't anything of overwhelming importance. "Why was this call directed to us?

"The Attican Beta cluster falls under our new jurisdiction, Admiral," Apollo said.

"I know, Apollo, but so does half of the galaxy. Why this one in particular? We're not here to act as a defense fleet."

"We're the closest force," Lasky said. "The system in question is a hop, a skip, and a jump away, so to speak."

"Well, pass it on to regional command. They'll have to dispatch a force," del Rio said. He knew it was far from ideal, especially with the current state of the UNSC navy, but it was all he could do.

"Sir, I think we should go," Lasky said.

"I understand that, Captain. I want to go as well. However, this fleet is in no condition to engage in a hostile action."

"I actually wasn't talking about the entire fleet, sir. Just us. Just the _Sol. _And a dozen pocket frigates."

Del Rio stood and contemplated the man for a few seconds. "And are you willing to risk your ship away from the fleet, Captain?"

"Sir, if there's anything there that the _Sol_ can't handle herself, it won't matter if we have the rest of the fleet with us."

Del Rio looked at the hologram, more to give him time to appear to be thinking things over than to actually think them over. He turned back to Lasky, Palmer, and Apollo. "Let's do it. Apollo, get those frigates onboard ASAP. Palmer, muster the troops. Captain Lasky, I want us on an outbound vector within the hour. If the frigates haven't rendezvoused by then, they need to play catch up or they're getting left behind.

**0901 Hours Military Standard Time, June 4, 2629 (revised date, Military Calendar)/ Vice Admiral Andrew del Rio, Onboard **_**UNSV Sol, Bridge**_**, Location Classified**

"Confirmed connection with the _Icebreaker_. That's twelve for twelve, Captain," Apollo said. "All escort frigates are onboard. We are ready for FTL."

"Very well," Lasky said. "Helm, begin translight spool-up."

Before the helm could respond in the affirmative, del Rio spoke up. "Captain, belay that order."

"Helm, belay spool-up!" Lasky turned to the Admiral. "Sir?"

"No Slipspace. Take us through the Relays." Before anyone could reply, he continued, "This story has to have broken by now. This region is far more populated than Eden Prime's and there are numerous shipping lanes. The rest of the galaxy will be watching to see how we respond. We'll be glad to show them."  
Lasky leaned in so only the Admiral could hear him. "Are you sure, sir? We don't know how the Citadel will respond to us passing through their territory."

"The Geth had to travel through their territory to get to Eden Prime. Precedent is on our side. Besides, what are they going to do to stop us? Shoot?"

**1015 Galactic Standard Time, June 4, 2629 (United Earth Governments Calendar)/ Commander of Ship Illo Heratus, Onboard **_**MVTH**__**Chatti, **_**Hades Gamma Cluster, Relay 132**

Commander of Ship Illo Heratus enjoyed days like this. The Anansi-Ishtar shipping lane was not only one of the most profitable lanes in Citadel territory, but also one of the closest to the Veil and the Terminus systems. As such, it wasn't all that uncommon for the daring pirate to launch a raid on one of the thousands of vessels that travelled through here every day. Which was why quiet days such as this one were such a luxury. Illo loved a good fight as much as any Turian, but he didn't see the point of risking his neck every single day of his hopefully long life. His ship, the _Chatti, _was one of the newest and most powerful ships in the Turian navy and his crew was highly competent. It was far removed from his past command. He was having, as the humans would say, 'a damn good day.' He was then understandably irritated when his signals officer reported in.

"What do you mean exactly by 'unscheduled massive mass transit?'" he asked the officer.

"Just that, sir," the officer replied. "We have a fleet coming through with total tonnage in the millions and there is no scheduled transit that big for months. It's not the Quarians. They were halfway across the galaxy, last time anyone saw them, and heading in the opposite direction."

Illo mulled it over. If it wasn't the Quarians and it wasn't a trade fleet, there was only one other realistic option: a pirate raid. Even that was off though. The mass of the fleet coming through was just too great. In fact, even the heavy element mining fleets rarely massed as much and they would always schedule transit dates to prevent monetary and credit losses. Something was definitely wrong with the situation. "Send a flash message to command and bring the task force up to combat alert." So much for a nice day. He ran a calculation in his head. It would take a fleet that big hours to pass through the relay in its entirety, but if the mass had already been entered on the other end of the Relay, they could expect ships to be arriving within a matter of seconds. Before he could get any further, his signals officer swore.

"New contact! It just exited the Re…" He trailed off.

"What? What happened?" Illo commanded. For some reason, in his gut, it felt like he had just lost control of the situation. When no reply came to him, he pulled up the data himself. He understood why his officer had lost the ability to speak. "Mother of the Hierarch…" he swore. As he looked at the view being projected in front of him, a stylized bird of prey clutching a planet drifted into view.

**0915 Hours Military Standard Time, June 4, 2629 (United Earth Governments Calendar)/ Vice Admiral Andrew del Rio, Onboard **_**UNSV Sol, **_**Bridge, Hades Gamma Cluster, Relay Alpha Romeo Seven**

"Well, I think we have their attention," Apollo said. "I'm detecting increased reactor output from all nine combat vessels, in line with standard combat profiles. I advise raising shields to 25 percent. They are also moving into positions to block our jump vectors."

"Comms, get me a comlink with their flagship," del Rio ordered. While he doubted the nine Citadel warships could more than dent the _Sol_'s armor even with the shields turned completely off, he was keen on avoiding an interstellar controversy right off the bat.

"Comlink established, Admiral. Commander of Ship Illo Heratus," Apollo informed.

A holoscreen flicked on in front of del Rio. A somewhat flustered looking Turian stood on the bridge of his ship. Del Rio spoke first, before any challenges could come. "Commander Heratus. I'm Admiral Andrew del Rio of the UNSC. We are on an emergency relief mission to one of our colonies that is under attack by Geth forces. Pursuant to article seven of the Interstellar Defense Initiative, I am authorized to take this vessel and any other ships under my command through the Mass Relay network for the defense of our colonies. Do you object to this?"

The Turian on the screen took a moment to reply, either because of the delay introduced by his translation software or simply as he tried to gather his thought. When he spoke, it came through with the slightly synthetic tone of a translator. "Those are unsubstantiated rumors, Admiral del Rio. If there were any Geth activity in this region, we would be the first to know about it."

"Then our intelligence is far better than your own, Commander," del Rio said. The Turian visibly stiffened. "Now, will you give me the clearance codes to use the Relay?"

"This situation is unprecedented, Admiral. I will have to contact my superiors at the Citadel to report this incident. A vessel such as your own is clearly in violation of the Citadel Treat-"

Del Rio cut him off. "I don't have time for this. Commander, give me the clearance codes or I will run this little blockade you've set up and you had better hope to whatever god you believe in you don't scratch the paint."

The Turian took a moment to reply, wondering if the threat had been explicit or implicit. "I'm sorry, Ad-" Del Rio closed the comlink with his mind.

"Nav! Spin up the FTL and give me 30 percent forward on the mains. If the dear, stuck-up Commander doesn't get his ships out of the way, feel free to bump them."

As it so happened, the cruiser directly in front of the _Sol_ was Asari-crewed. Her captain, recognizing the danger her ship was in, ordered evasive action a full thirty seconds before any order came in from the _Chatti_. Even at only thirty percent power, the mains on the _Sol_ closed the distance fast enough that the Asari cruiser was buffeted by Charon radiation as the translight engines on the _Sol_ tore open space.

It would take the Human warship fourty-three minutes to reach its destination, fourty-one minutes and 7.54 seconds longer than its commander had intended. In that time, several hundred gigabytes of video, taken from the thousands of commercial and private vessels travelling the Anansi-Ishtar lane would hit the extranet. It was only fifteen minutes after the _Sol_ had barged onto the galactic scene that the Council got their first report about a human warship that dwarfed any ship ever seen by a citizen of Citadel space. Three minutes after that, the three largest headline news agencies ran breaking news stories. Crowds came to a halt on the Citadel and across every capital world and colony and stared at the shaky footage plastered on their viewscreens. It was at that moment that the citizens of the galaxy realized what their Councilors had realized four minutes earlier and collectively shuddered.

The Human race was going to war.

* * *

**I'm alive! *throws confetti into the air* It's been a while. Some interesting things have happened in the meantime. Halo 4 came out for starters. Anyway, I finally found some free time to get this chapter written up. I changed some stuff to better fit the story, such as Lasky's and del Rio's characters. Expect some action in the next chapter, whenever that may be.**

**On another note, I've messed around with the Codex a bit and decided to try a new format. Feel free to hop over to my profile page to check it out. It's still a work in progress, but let me know what you think.**

**As always, please leave a review/comment telling me what you thought.**


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